Devil's Due
by Kyeian
Summary: COMPLETE. A year, a marriage, a mission, and an engagement. So much to do and so little time, huh? But once you've accomplished the impossible...anything...is possible. This is the sequel to In the City at Night.
1. 01

—01—

**October 14, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 7pm**

"So, there's this lovely little thing called supper," Chai noted somewhat acerbically to her husband. "And the key to it is that you eat it while it's hot...and usually at a _set_ time every _night_."

"Shit," Jordan returned, looking to his watch and running a hand down his face. "Sorry, babe...I'm sorry."

"Where _are_ you?" she demanded in annoyance.

"At the Rest," he admitted with a sigh. "I had my watch set, but when it beeped there was one more thing to get done."

"_Jordan_," she started in irritation, then sighed. "Fine, whatever. I'm going over to the M building."

"Chai," he protested before she could hang up, "I'll be home in a half hour, come on..."

"I told Paris I'd come down, so I'm going," she noted pointedly. "See, I had this nice little supper cooked up," she tossed his plate of cold food onto the counter, "about an hour ago...no, no," she noticed the clock on the wall. "_Two_ hours ago."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, starting to close up his folders. "I lost track of time."

"I know," she returned, then sighed. "I don't want to be mad at you."

He sighed himself, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry...I...I'll come home early tomorrow."

"Yeah, right," she agreed...and hung up.

Jordan dropped the phone back onto the cradle, glowering at it.

The Rest was _her_ idea.

"What's up?" Chance asked curiously swinging into the room to look at his friend.

"Chai called," Jordan explained, shoving the files in his inbox and starting to clean up his mess. "I was supposed to be home two hours ago."

Chance flinched appreciatively.

"Aren't we still supposed to be honeymooning?" Jordan demanded of his friend as he grabbed his jacket.

"Well, the honeymoon thing is _supposed_ to last the first year...but you keep pulling her up short and you've been _with_ her for what? Six years now?"

"I guess," Jordan muttered irritably, checking his pockets for his keys. "Six months is a bit early for us to be bickering, don't you think?"

"I think I'm going to side with her, because if I don't Shin will get pissed at me and put _our_ wedding off." He moved from his friend's path with a smirk. "Oh, and Jor?"

"Yeah?" Jordan asked, rolling his eyes in anticipation.

"If you're late to my wedding I won't just get pissy and hang up with you."

Jordan grinned at that, hitting the guy in the arm as he started down the hall.

"If you get her flowers," Chance noted, "she'll continue being pissed, you realize that don't you?"

"Harhar," Jordan retorted, then started down the stairs.

Chance grinned and dropped the file he'd had in his friend's inbox, locking the door behind him as he started back for his own office.

It had been a few days past a year since they'd set up the mission to begin with. Christmas was coming and the line of people had thickened. It wasn't nearly so long or large as it had been the year before, but it was still enough to make his stomach turn. He hadn't thought the mission would be self perpetuating, but every time they started to get low, Chai would mingle and mutter about being worried...and things would just show up like magic.

They'd all thought Relena brought results, but Chai's sweet and quiet demeanor made everyone want to reassure her that she didn't have to be so quiet, or she didn't have to sit in the back and listen. That want of including her and then when they'd see her smiling...she had won just about as many hearts in Relena in just about the same amount of time.

The only difference was that she'd gotten married and her wedding had been so over-crowded with gifts that she'd given some of it up to the mission. This _may_ have pissed a few people off, but by and large everyone seemed delighted by it. They considered her completely selfless, and if anyone got wind that she was getting upset with Jordan, he'd probably have a mob.

But then again, they might get someone to take over part of his job so he could get _home_ on time.

Chance shook his head as he moved down the hall to his own office. It was rare, anymore, that he would be needed in the evenings. The main concern when night fell was getting blankets or warm food. Occasionally, someone with kids and no money to pay a power bill that'd been overdue the month prior.

The...the lines, though. The lines had shortened. That was good, right? That meant they were getting it done right, didn't it?

He had no way to measure, because people _had_ given false names, thinking they wouldn't be able to get more assistance under their true names. The lists of names included weird ones like Justify...or hundred and hundreds of "John".

Speaking of Jon...

"Hey," Jon Breer muttered, moving to walk beside Chance. "You coming out tonight? Where's Jor?"

"Jor had to go home. Chai made supper two hours ago, so he's running."

"Ouch," Jon flinched appreciatively. "What was it this time?"

"I stopped asking about a month ago," Chance noted, grinning slightly. "And actually, I've got to get back to base and talk to Une. She's back from Portugal now, and it's her I'll have to get my house through."

"House?"

"Yeah, next door to Jordan. The guy who lived in it before has moved to a different base, so it's open. It sounded prime to me, but Une wasn't about."

The mafioso nodded his approval of that.

"What are you doing here?" Chance added, raising an eyebrow at the man. "There's no way in even _this_ hell that you'll be getting assistance."

Jon smirked at him and rolled his eyes. "I've been trying to get Jordan aside for a while now, but he's always busy."

"He's learning the fine art of delegation the hard way," the Japanese man noted. "Sooner than later, he'll get over himself and stop trying to play Atlas."

"Atlas?" Jon asked blankly.

"You know, the Titan with the world on his shoulders?"

Jonathan stared at him a long moment before acknowledging that, seeing as he didn't have much else _to_ do. He always forgot the mythology that Heero and Jordan dived into.

...Chance. _Chance_, not Heero anymore.

Sometimes he felt like the only person who ever slipped on it.

"What do you need him for?" Chance added, studying the man.

"I...owe him money?" Jon offered.

Chance guffawed at that.

"No, really, last year...when he got shot, I was supposed to give him four." He bent down his index finger instead of his thumb to show the number, wondering if the man would repeat it. Chance wasn't stupid by any means, but the gesture was one Jordan had used when saying Xane Featihl's name the last time they'd really talked. Mouthy, as he was called, had contacted Jon with a request, and Jon wanted to know what he was supposed to do about it.

Unfortunately, Jordan wasn't feeling so cooperative.

"Four?" Chance mimicked the gestured, then shook his head. "You're weird...I'll let him know. He'll probably call you tonight...with interest, that four should be...healthier."

"Plenty healthy," Jon agreed wryly, rolling his eyes. After the 'who are you and why the fuck are you calling me at three-thirty in the morning' moment had passed, Mouthy had been bouncing off the walls. He had been in some dive apartment in an entirely different _country_, explaining that he'd gotten up and had breakfast before calling, and apologizing that it had been so late.

"Tired?" Chance asked, tilting his head. It had taken him repeating the gesture before he realized it was Jor-sign _for_ Xane. Jordan had several gestures like that which you'd have to be watching consistently to pick up on. The man talked with his hands, in more ways than one.

"No, hyper as fuck," Jon retorted irritably, sarcastically. Anyone who overheard the comment would think he was just being sarcastic.

"My bad," Chance noted, making a dismissive gesture that also indicated understanding. "I have to get out of here."

"Fine...what do you think, should I pay up?"

Pay up?

Chance considered everything his friend had talked about before considering Mouthy's mission. He didn't know what Xane would be needing money for, but...

"Probably, he might get pissed if you don't."

"I thought so, too," Jon mused, scratching his chin. "But I have no idea if he'd accept it."

"Aye," Heero agreed nodding a bit. "Better safe'n sorry, and if it comes down to it, I won't leave you hanging."

Jon's eyes flashed happily, and he nodded. "I'm goin' back to the bar," he noted. "Have Jor call my vid, I miss looking at him."

Chance snorted at that as the man turned and walked off. As a trust for his friends, Jon only brought one of his body-guards with him into the mission building. That man, no matter who he was, would be standing near the door while Jon ran around doing whatever he needed to. It might seem like a token gesture to some, but Chance and the others understood it fully. Jon'd had three attempted assassinations on him since he'd been accused of trying to assassinate Zechs Marquise. He _owned_ more than half of Angels, the slums of a city called Remington. He said he "allowed" Jordan to operate the mission from his own good graces, but Chance knew that he was more apt to avoid confrontation of forces. The poverty-ridden populace of the lower city would not be able to stand against the military. Jon might have illegal arms coming out his ears, but those weapons would be second-class and who knew how much actual _ammo_ he could get while the military had top-of-the-line merchandise and unlimited supplies.

Of course, Jon's illegal operations had narrowed considerably since he'd realized that _Jordan_ Maxwell, an attractive and skilled man with no evident ties to anything, was actually _Duo_ Maxwell...an attractive and skilled man who'd saved the world and was probably in the top twenty of the richest people on the planet.

Actually, Jor had a pretty penny, but it wasn't anything overly excessive, and since they'd all taken a pay-cut the year before to up the rate for the soldiers, it wasn't building as fast as it had been...

All of the attempts on Jon had been attempted by other mafia sects trying to win over lower Angels.

The Japanese man shook his head and moved back into his own office, gathering up his jacket. He wasn't entirely sure Mouthy's mission wasn't, in part, Jordan getting back at a man who'd tried to kill his friend. Jor had been muttering something about an organized crime racket coming out of Chile and trying to pry a corner from Jon's grasp. Jon himself didn't seem to care too much about it, but it worried the others. They all knew that Jon's revenge might include his own assassinations...or just torching someone's house. The question was, of course, if the fire department could get down there before all of lower Angels burned to so many ashes.

Shinyue, the most beautiful woman alive...in his opinion...was waiting for him. He pulled his jacket on and locked his office. His fiancé had decided not to move in with him until he had a place of his own. She didn't really like the end-wing that'd been cordoned off for he and the other three pilots. That had happened before Jordan had come back, and since then Quatre had moved into Jor's place.

Quatre was off the Prozac.

The change in their friend over the past year was brilliant. As an empath, Quatre was exposed to how each and every person he came across _felt_. No matter how much pain, anguish, or happiness, Quatre felt it. No matter how low or high, Quatre felt it. It'd done more than just upset him. He'd been clinically depressed for a few years, because the quietings, or people who could block it all out, were few and hard to come by. Not only that, but the set up of the M building, the empath building, with so _many_ empaths who needed that quieting, bothered more than a few people.

Chai was a new breed of quieting. Chai could _decide_ to do it for one. If she was overwrought she couldn't control it. The former pilots weren't entirely sure it wasn't something _any_one could pick up on. She said she focused on making him feel better, and it made him feel better.

Chance moved out the front doors of the mission to a few calls good night. It was going on seven, and he knew his fiancé and her little boy were waiting.

Zachary, also known as Chip, was Shin's son from someone else. Chance had asked once, and she'd muttered distantly about a few things, and he'd decided it best to leave it at that. Of course, initially, he'd been making a horrible mess of the relationship in general. He had been trying his damnedest, but he didn't understand the girls who grew up in Angels. He didn't understand how she saw things, and what things would be considered beyond forgiveness. Jordan, though, Jordan had lived...almost _thrived_ in Angels with his new wife. He knew how to act and react to anything anyone in the lower city would throw at him. He'd waltzed into Shin's house and almost instantly won her over.

Of course, the outcome of that had gone somewhat downhill when Chance'd been "grounded," meaning his base-leave was denied him for the weekends. Chip had gotten sick, and that had prompted Shin to call him for help when he couldn't offer it–not that he'd known it since his friends had this lovely habit of stealing his _phone_ for a laugh when they decided it'd be worth their time to do it.

Anyway, Chance slid into his rig happily, starting the engine. He was _engaged_ to a woman he loved very much, he had _Jordan_ back...his friends were _happy_.

He knew it wouldn't last long, but he definitely intended to treasure it while he had the chance.

- -

**E/N:** So...I finally started this story. It's taking place a year after the first...and I note the date, place, and time so you can tell who is where. I'm time-zone jumping a bit in this one. Also, the base that the characters are working out of is in Inado California...which is a place I made up, just like Angels and Reimington. Aside from that, I don't own Gundam Wing...normal disclaimers apply.


	2. 02

-02-

**October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 7:15pm**  
"Oh, hey, Chai," Wufei muttered, having leaned forward from the hand on top of his head. "What's going on?"  
"I told Paris I'd come down," Chai explained, looking the room over. "What are you doing in here?"  
"Morgan and I have everything we need for a study except a volunteer," Wufei explained, indicating the curious male he and his friend had accosted. "We're trying for people we _don't_ know, but these guys aren't biting."  
"It's not that I'm against it," the man protested with a frown. "I just can't get a clear reading from you."  
"What?" Wufei demanded of him in mild disbelief.  
"There are too many people in here," he shrugged. "I'm not as strong as Winner. I get too much interference."  
Morgan, who was sitting beside Wufei, started scribbling in a spiral-notebook.  
"Why is that interesting?" the guy demanded, blinking at him.  
"We're trying to come up with a better solution than throwing you all in one building," Wufei explained, indicating the room. "I mean…you all have emotions yourselves. If we can come up with some way to…" he was focused on his hands, which were in some form of sign language that made no sense, as he thought. "To…"  
"If we can figure out exactly what it is you're doing," Morgan offered, "then we can figure out a better way to interrupt it."  
For a brief moment the man's eyes went outraged, but then he actually thought about that.  
"So you need a clear reading from him before you decide?" Chai asked curiously, considering the room. There were people scattered all over it quietly playing games of chess or looking at magazines. They weren't being very social, and she noted a few quietings here or there.  
"Well," the man looked slightly embarrassed, "I just don't want to be made fool of."  
Considering that Quatre himself had been fooled in the past, and that he was on the stronger end of the empath pool, the statement seemed a bit silly to the dark haired female, but she let it go…and focused.  
The man's eyes went huge as he stared at her, then looked the rest of the room over.  
"What did you…do?" Wufei asked, focusing on the girl.  
"I'm blocking the rest of the room out."  
"Chai, you're a genius," Morgan muttered, starting to write quickly again.  
The man was still staring at her in disbelief.  
"Oh come on," she protested. "Read Chang so I can go find Marks."  
"He's up in the quieting room," the guy muttered, then thought a moment and looked back to the men in front of him. He was silent a long moment before he finally nodded and sat forward to extend a hand to Wufei.  
"Yes! Haha!" Wufei's laugh was something akin to childish naughtiness as he shook the man's hand and Morgan extended his. "I love you, Chai."  
"He means it, too," the guy noted.  
Chai grinned at him, ruffling his hair before turning and starting toward the stairs.

**October 15, A.C. 204. Vigo, Spain. 4am**  
Mouthy drummed his fingertips on his counter-top impatiently. There was only one problem with calling Jon Breer for help, and that problem was that they hadn't set up any pre-plans for the borrow. Jon didn't owe Xane a single favor, and they were hardly even friends. Mouthy was generally told to keep away from the mafioso. He knew Jordan would be annoyed with him for the contact, but he didn't exactly have a choice. He had to have a legit source of dirty money.  
That idea amused him terribly.  
The vid buzzed.  
Xane hit the button before it could make any more noise, staring wide eyed at the man.  
"Your hair is bizarre, do you know that?" Jon asked curiously. He was holding a champagne glass negligently in one hand as he moved to drop into his chair. It was a ways across the room from the vid.  
"It's called a disguise," the spy retorted. "I don't want to be recognized. Are you frontin' me or not?"  
"That's a large sum of money, baby," Jon noted, studying him with sparkling eyes. "What's in it for me?"  
"What's it worth to you?" Xane retorted.  
Jon raised his eyebrows very slightly.  
Xane frowned at him, considering what he had to offer…aside from something that would be fairly obvious if you considered the fact that Jon was frequently pressing Jor to let him have a night with the guy.  
"I was talking around," Jon added, studying him. "Talked to a guy who said…maybe. Said he wouldn't leave me hanging…but…"  
The light over the keypad flashed, indicating another call, and a moment later, the caller I.D. flashed up Jordan's number.  
"Hate to cut you off, Jon, but I have to take this," Xane noted, and hit the button.  
"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Jordan asked darkly.  
"Getting funds," Mouthy returned. "What?"  
"You know the damn situation," Jordan retorted irritably as he drummed his fingertips on his counter. "You know that Jon has been dying to get one up on me."  
"He's on the other line and I need funds," Xane retorted, crossing his arms as he studied his superior.  
"Ohhh, that's a _great_ reason to let him one-up me," Jor retorted, crossing his own arms. "What are you going to give him?"  
That brought Xane up short. He assumed that Jordan would step in and take over.  
"Oh," Jor repeated quietly, leaning into the vid more. "You didn't think of that, did you? You think I'm just gonna do everything for you."  
"I know exactly what I can give him," Xane snapped, slightly hurt by this. He didn't care if he was a pawn between the pair, he needed a legit source. He needed someone that his persona could have contacted…and he'd been _trying_ to get Jordan, but the damn guy was never available.  
"So think about the other aspect, asshole," Jordan's tone was sharp and annoyed. "Did you forget the part where people have put together who I am and that I'm connected with Jon? Did that _skip_ your mind entirely?"  
Xane hesitated, then shrugged slightly. "I didn't think it'd be an issue. I'm sort of in _Spain_."  
"Hm, let's see…" Jordan muttered. "An international arms trading ring with ports in every major city…and Jonathan Breer," he looked to the screen again. "I can see him being a small fry."  
"On the other line," Xane repeated.  
Jordan's expression changed only to become emotionless as he raised one hand and typed on the keypad next to his screen. Something beeped and he typed in more…it didn't take him horribly long, and the blips and chirps were simple confirmation noises.  
"Jordan?" Jon asked blankly as the image on Xane's screen split in half to show the kingpin and the former pilot. "I thought you were on base?"  
"I'm a hacker," Jordan retorted, his expression dark.  
"So…you are on base? Is Mouthy?"  
"No, Mouthy is in Spain."  
Xane blinked as he realized that Jon couldn't see him. He'd thought that his half screen feature had been shared…  
"What's going on?" Jon asked curiously.  
"It seems my second wants to borrow money from you. It's my credit."  
"Come on," Xane protested. "How the fuck am I supposed to get any cred…"  
Jon was studying his screen in confusion.  
"Not with Breer," Jordan retorted.  
Jon sniggered slightly, probably realizing what had happened.  
"So give him his fucking money and don't you dare embarrass him."  
"You're in a great mood," the kingpin grumbled. "What did I do?"  
"Well, not coming to me is a start."  
"I've been _trying_ to get ahold of you all damn _**day**_!" Jon retorted. "I ended up having to chase down Chance to get anything! Don't start getting all _pissed_ at me when _you're_ the one who can't ever be found!"  
"I've been _working_ the Rest!" Jor half shouted back. "I can't _help_ it if it's busy!" he paced away from the counter, still in the camera's view. "I get there every morning and dive head long into other people's problems that _aren't_ going away while my five are off gallivanting the world looking for a fucking weapons ring that seems to only appear on _Beltane_ and disappear if the proper gift isn't brought in twenty damn minutes! I get to hear how little Tommy got beaten up by the bully on the corner and how Suzie started having sex with a boy for money down the street! I get to hear how Mama loves Daddy but Daddy hits her anyway…I get to hear all about complete _shit_ and come home to an empty house! The _least_ you can do is call my _**fucking**_ cell phone!"  
Jon went silent, blinking.  
"So front him the fucking money and don't give me this bullshit, Jon," Jordan moved in so he was inches from the screen. "I _can_ take back Angels and I will if you piss me off."  
"I _tried_ to get ahold of you," Jon informed him, looking upset. "I called your cell five damn times…you think I'd really leave your boy up in the air? He told me something about breakfast…that's your code isn't it?"  
Xane's stomach jumped guiltily.  
He'd literally eaten breakfast and called the man…it hadn't been code.  
"What?" Jordan snapped, his focus changing back to Xane.  
"Don't snap at me like that!" Jon protested. "I ran all over Angels today trying to find you! You bitch and complain to me like I'm just trying to fuck you over when all I've been _trying_ to do today is let you know!"  
Jordan focused on Jon's side of the screen a moment, then looked back to Xane.  
"I…I said I'd waited until after breakfast to call him," Xane muttered, moving closer to the vid. "I didn't…I didn't…I'm not in trouble."  
Jordan's expression turned dark again.  
"I'm sorry," Xane muttered, looking down. He hadn't realized that Jon knew any of their code.  
"Why didn't you call me back?" Jon asked tiredly, sitting forward in his seat as he took a long pull of his cup. "You usually call me back when I call…especially if I call twice in five minutes."  
Jordan studied one side of the screen a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled open his phone…and stared at it.  
"What?" Jon asked, rising to move to the vid properly.  
Jordan raised his phone and stared more, then looked up to his friend and subordinate. He opened his mouth like he'd speak, then looked back down to it.  
"What?" Xane asked, blinking at him.  
"It's dead," Jordan returned, raising the thing so they saw the complete lack of light from it. "I got so busy today that I didn't even realize my cell phone was dead."  
Xane blinked.  
"I _tried_," Jon informed him, looking away. "I don't call the base…you know I don't call the base…and I don't have the number for the Rest. That's why I _went_ there…and you were running out like I didn't matter."  
Jordan's head came up again as he focused on that part of the screen.  
"I tried," Jon noted, raising his eyes to the screen again. "I know you're stressed…it's not like I don't…"  
"I'm sorry," Jordan noted, looking away from the screen entirely as he started fiddling on his counter. "That was entirely my fault."  
"I'll get Mouthy the cash," Jon muttered, rubbing at his face. "It was never an actual question of if I'd do it…I just didn't know if I was supposed to or not."  
Xane looked away.  
"You're going to get yourself killed, playing politics with me," Jordan said quietly, still not looking at the screen. "You do what you do. Don't worry about what I want."  
"You can say that all you want," Jon muttered, his hand moving to the connection button. "But you forget that not five minutes ago I was an undying bastard. Save the pretty speeches for the masses, huh, Jor? I still tend to change the channel."  
"I'm sorry," Jordan said seriously, looking to the screen again. "I shouldn't just make the assumptions."  
"Save it," Jon snapped bitterly. "Mouthy, I'll wire the transfer to Wells Fargo. If you're not there to get it, they'll just return it to my account. Ten minutes."  
"Um…okay," Xane said, focusing on the kingpin's half of the screen. "What name?"  
"Mouthy," Jon retorted…and hit the button.  
"How far away is that?" Jordan muttered, looking away from the screen.  
"Five minutes," Xane returned.  
"Finish the transfer tonight," Jordan ordered, focusing on him again. "You're going to Thailand tomorrow evening, your time…the name will be Tom Sevier."  
"I need to come home," Xane denied, studying him seriously. "I need to take a break and re-grow my hair…change the color."  
Jordan frowned at him, studying him seriously.  
"I need a few weeks," Xane persisted, considering his leader a long moment. "Just some time to stop thinking."  
"You never stop thinking about it," Jordan returned darkly. "Judas hasn't checked in, and his point was three days ago. Danielle was late…Riley was early…it doesn't stop."  
"But I need to come home," Xane persisted. He could see that his friend was about to tear at the seams…and he had no intentions of letting it stand.  
Jordan considered it a long moment, then nodded. "Fine…finish the transfer and come in."  
"Yes, sir," Xane muttered, turning to grab his wallet. "I've got to go."


	3. 03

— **03** —

**October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 8:30pm**

Trowa rubbed tiredly at his face as he sat in the chair of the living room. He was tired, bored, and a little annoyed that he was single. Deb had been a good girlfriend...but Sandra had not been. Sandra had been good in bed but annoying in just about every other aspect. She'd been needy and clingy, and unlike most girls who thought their man was cheating, she was absolutely terrified that him cheating would mean him leaving her.

Considering that he hadn't been cheating, her incessant half-begging had grated on his nerves. She'd finally stopped calling him, though–he was pretty sure she'd gotten a new boyfriend.

So that left him single...but he wasn't alone in that. Wufei and Danielle Duvall, a girl from Jordan's team, had finally broken off their relationship. Wufei had definitely swept her off her feet with small tokens of affection, but after they'd gotten to the next level of serious, he'd stopped doing it. He hadn't meant to be mean or anything by it, it'd just been the end of that part of their relationship. He'd wanted to work on getting to know her and her family, but the end of her little treasures upset her...a lot, evidently. She'd been getting extremely pissy for a while, and had finally stopped talking to him for a week.

Evidently he was supposed to show up with a present, and when he didn't, she felt unloved or something.

That had startled Trowa, because he hadn't gotten the impression that the girl was _really_ that shallow...or insecure? Whichever it was, they'd struggled on for another month before Wufei had regretfully noted that they didn't seem to work. She'd agreed, and they'd parted company without bitter words.

Trowa was amused by that, actually, because his fall out with Deb had been sparks and fireworks. She'd gotten pissed at him for some slight or another that he hadn't paid attention to, and dropped him almost on the spot. This had been followed by her cussing him out down the street whenever she chanced to see him...which was often...until he'd gotten tired of people looking at them and pulled rank on her.

There couldn't really be any more _true_ an end than that. He'd even intended to figure out what his mess-up had been so he could fix it...but that wasn't exactly possible after that. She avoided him, and since she wasn't on any of their teams, there was no reason for them to come across each other on the base.

So...he, Quatre, and Wufei were single...Jordan was married and Heero had a wedding date about a month off.

The man rose to his feet, stretching his neck. He'd been trying to wait for Heero to get home. The man had gone to talk to Une earlier in the evening and hadn't been seen since. He wanted to know if she'd given him the house or not. Considering all of their loyal service, Une couldn't really _deny_ him the place, or any of them if they asked for it, but if something had changed...

It didn't matter, he'd see the guy in the morning anyway...and Wufei, actually.

Trowa was a bit annoyed that he'd been home alone _all_ evening. Waiting for his friends to come back made it hard for him to go do something, and Doug had to get up early to go play trade-off with Jordan.

He moved tiredly into his room and dropped onto his mattress, listening to the house before deciding to take the chance and have a smoke.

What were the chances, really, of them coming home within the next five minutes?

- -

**October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 8:45pm**

"So we'll be borrowing this equipment," Wufei summed up to Calvin Black. It was the empath that Chai had helped he and Morgan win over. They were in one of the testing facilities the base had. "We can only get it after hours," Wufei added apologetically. "So it'll be late at night...but if we can figure out a way..." he had his hands in front of him again. It looked like he was holding a ball, really.

Calvin nodded, appreciating his complete focus. The man was hell-bent on helping. He was nervous about his set up being seen as inadequate.

"You know...if you can get any friends to come, too," Morgan suggested a bit. "Only one or two at a time...just anyone else there."

"I'll try," Calvin reassured them dubiously, sitting against a table and looking the room over. "Maybe we could bring in a lamp, huh? This is dark."

Wufei nodded instantly, looking for a plug along a wall and going over what furniture he could access on short notice and haul around...

"I think I like you," Calvin noted, grinning slightly at the Chinese male. "Nothing against you," he noted quickly to Morgan. "He's just screaming at me."

"Screaming?" Morgan asked, moving around to set his notebook on the tabletop. "What do you mean, screaming?"

Calvin considered it a moment, appreciating the fact that both the men were very calm. "Let's see...you know when you're talking to someone...like this," he gestured between them. "We're just sort of talking, interesting, sure...but if anyone walked by they wouldn't more than glance at us...but then there's times when you talk to people who are talking fast, stumbling over words and bouncing...you know?"

Morgan nodded as he wrote.

"It's like that...but calm, if that makes any sense." He focused on his sense of the other man again. "Winner's called it a spark before...it just seems more like volume to me."

"How about Marks?" Morgan asked, raising his head.

The empath considered the man a moment and shrugged. "I dunno, he's withdrawn. I don't get close to him."

"So when you're in a room with him...he's not like a spark?"

"Not really, no," Calvin considered Morgan a moment. "Why?"

"Because Winner said..." he flicked back to the beginning of the notebook. "He said that when he enters a room he can sense the sparks, especially if he closes his eyes."

"Really?" that startled the other. "I hadn't...wait...do you write down everything?"

Morgan flashed him a half-guilty grin. "I'm hoping that there'll be a common thread. Whenever you talk about the power...I do write it down. Phrases...you know? Marks and Winner say a lot of the same type of things, but they're together all the time. I was starting to think they were common descriptions until I started talking to you."

"It's probably concepts," Wufei noted, leaning against his knuckles. "Different versions of the same thing...or maybe there's a difference in the level of powers."

"Let's not start theorizing yet," Morgan suggested.

"Yeah," Wufei muttered, settling back to frown as he looked the room over. "I have to decide on a plan," he added to his guest. "I need to figure out where to start–there's so much going on to begin with, it's hard to find a thread."

"I'm actually tired right now, too," Calvin noted, looking to his watch. "Hey?" he offered his hand to Morgan.

Morgan hesitantly passed him the pen, and the guy pulled the notebook onto his lap, flipping it around to the front and writing his name and cell phone number on it.

"Great," Wufei muttered happily, rubbing at his neck. "So I'll call you tomorrow and we can figure something out...are you busy during the day?"

"Not really," the man shrugged. "I have a class in the morning."

"So...you could...keep track of what hits you during the day," Morgan suggested, tucking the pen into the spiral bit. "Note what you feel when you're hungry and what you feel when you're tired...what sort of people catch your attention...just so we can get a base down."

"You got anymore of those?" Calvin asked, indicating the notebook.

"In the car," Morgan agreed.

"So are you busy during the work day?" he added to Wufei.

"Some days more than others. We're hitting a re-training spiral again."

"You could probably get others to help," Calvin noted. "Bring some of those spirals in at lunch some day and talk to everyone. Get'em to compare how they feel...some of them are on mood alterers..." he frowned at that one, "and some aren't...you could get the damn shrinks to realize that we aren't depressed because of a chemical imbalance."

Wufei smirked slightly at that. "I'm not entirely sure that one flies."

"You know what I mean," Calving protested, mildly embarrassed.

"I like it," Morgan noted to Wufei. "It'd help us find a common thread."

"So we can get some more tomorrow," Wufei conceded, looking around with a tired sigh. "Put in an options sheet...come on, let's get going."

Calvin followed obediently as Morgan looked the room over with a surge of hope, then turned to follow the pair out as well.

He couldn't wait until they got something _done_.

- -

**October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 9pm**

"Hey, buddy," Chance greeted Chip over the phone. "You heading to bed?"

"Yeah," Chip agreed, yawning. "Are you coming over tomorrow?"

"Yeah, after work," the former pilot agreed, heading down the stairs from Une's office. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"You know that house I was telling you about?"

"Yeah?"

"It ran away."

Chip giggled at that, amused in spite of himself. He knew he and his mom were supposed to be moving in with his dad, and houses _couldn't_ run away.

Chance laughed a bit, glad the joke had worked. "Actually...I get it."

"Really?" Chip sat up excitedly as Shin turned to look at him. "No! You're trickin' me!"

"I'm not!" Chance protested. "I talked to the dragon lady and she said it's okay!"

Chip squeaked, absolutely beaming at his mother.

"So you know what I need you to do?"

"Yeah, Dad?" Chip focused back on the phone.

"I need you to go to bed, all right? You have school tomorrow, so you need to sleep."

"Okay," Chip agreed, all but throwing the phone at Shin and darting for his bed.

"Good...night?" the soldier asked uncertainly.

"And here I thought you wanted to talk to me," Shin retorted.

Chance laughed. "Hey, Baby."

"Hey," she returned. "What's going on now?"

"Une okayed the house," Chance explained excitedly. "It'll take until tomorrow evening...and we can move in."

"I think I'm going to have to pull you up short," she noted in amusement. "I'm not just transplanting my son to an entirely new house, no matter how excited he is about it. You can move in, and we'll come stay the night a few times and just start spending more time there. I want to make sure the move isn't going to bother him."

"That's fine," Chance returned, looking up to the sky. It was overcast, but for some reason that had its own beauty. "Mm...I love you."

"I love you, too," Shin reassured him. "Are you going to move in already?"

"I think so," he muttered. "I want to see what it's like to live alone, so I'll stay there until you move in."

"You might want to take gradual steps, too," she half teased, grinning. "Wufei and Trowa won't know what happened to them if you're gone, too. They'll have to make their own breakfast and everything."

Chance laughed at that.

"I have work and Zach has school," she muttered, considering her watch. "You should probably go to bed, too."

"I'm heading that way," the solider unlocked his rig. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right," she muttered, then looked up at her wide-eyed little boy, who was moving hesitantly from his room. "Someone forgot to say good night."

"All right, I love you."

"Love you," she returned, then passed the cell phone to her son.

"Dad?" Chip asked hesitantly. "I know you said to go to sleep...but..."

"It's all right," Chance reassured him. "You were trying to be good, but forgot to tell me good night. Good night, son, I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad," Chip noted, starting for their room as his mother herded him that way. "Good night."

"Night," Chance repeated, then smiled as the line went dead. He closed his own phone and leaned against the side of his car, staring up at the clouds.

Sure, Chip wasn't his son–Shin wasn't sure _who_ his dad was, but Chance'd been the male figure in his life aside from his uncles and grandfather. Chance had gotten with Shin when she was two months pregnant, and it had been pointed out to him that he'd fulfilled the father's obligation from being in the hospital room with her to teaching the boy baseball. He hadn't gotten to help her take care of the child the entire time, though. He'd been busy on base and she'd been fighting him...but that was passed now.

How would Chip react if she got pregnant again? What would he do when they had more kids?

It didn't really matter, though. There were help books out there, and people who would help them along.

Chance headed for home.

- -

**October 14, A.C. 204. Base. 930pm**

Wufei frowned as he moved into his place. There was a strange scent hovering in the air. It was very faint, just enough of a difference to be noticed, but it was there. He moved down through the living room and looked into Chance's room, then into the room that had been Quatre's before and was usually used by Chip now.

It was a little stronger by Trowa's door.

The Chinese man tapped lightly, still trying to place it.

"Hm?" Trowa's voice was muffled and tired sounding.

"You sleeping?" Wufei asked.

"I'm detailing my car," Trowa retorted.

"Sorry," Wufei muttered, then hesitated. "You smell that?"

"Smell what?"

"I dunno what it is...I don't recognize it."

"So take the garbage out," Trowa muttered dismissively.

Wufei frowned some more, then turned back to the kitchen as Chance moved into the apartment.

"What is that?" Chance asked, looking around as he thought. "Is that vrit?"

"I don't know," Wufei noted. "I've never tried it."

"You're not missing anything, trust me," Chance reassured him, pulling his jacket off as he thought. "I think it is...where's Tro?"

"In bed," Wufei returned, watching the other man walk by.

Chance threw the door in question open and flicked on the light.

"Fuck! Heero!" Trowa rolled and covered his eyes at the same time. "What the hell!"

"I smell vrit," Chance retorted.

"I was with the guys," Trowa snapped, gesturing to his laundry. "Someone in the place was smoking it...is it really all over the damn house?"

"Yes," Chance returned, frowning. "You were smoking?"

"I don't smoke, Wufei smokes," Trowa retorted. "Turn that light off before I kick your ass."

Chance considered that a long moment before flicking the light off. "Crack your window or something...I don't want it to stick to my clothes."

Trowa grumbled bitterly at him.

Chance pulled the door closed, focusing on Wufei with a frown.

"What?" Wufei asked. "I smoke cigarettes."

"The smell of vrit doesn't stick to clothing," the soldier explained, heading to his bedroom.

"That's not very likely," Wufei protested, following after.

"I guess," Chance muttered, starting to strip down, shrugging at his friend. "I don't smell it in here, though. Your room should be even more fine since you close your door."

Wufei nodded, then shrugged and started away, then hesitated. "You get it?"

"Yep," Chance agreed. "She was perfectly fine with it and we sat there and filled out the papers...I can pretty much move in tomorrow after work."

"Damn."

"Yeah," Chance flashed him a grin. "I'm gonna try living on my own for a bit...Shin's not moving in until she's sure Chip is ready."

"That's a good idea," Wufei muttered, starting for his own room with a frown.

"You get your volunteers?"

"Got one, anyway," Wufei agreed, hesitating. "Guy named Black...he suggested we bring spirals in for them to keep their own notes."

"That's a sound notion."

"That's what me and Mor thought, too...so I'm gonna do that at lunch. Mor is gonna type up the stuff tonight...good night."

"Night," Chance agreed, then closed his bedroom door.

Wufei frowned as he looked to Trowa's room again, then headed to his own.

- -

E/N: Aww, I was hoping someone would be happy I got this up...ah well, hope you all enjoy.


	4. 04

— **04** —

**October 15, A.C. 204. Airport. 9am**

Jordan yawned as he moved through the port with his hands in his pockets. He was trying to figure out a better way to keep himself from staying late at the Rest. The alarm had worked for about three seconds, but he'd needed to finish reading that report…and then he'd forgotten about the alarm and had moved onto the next report. He didn't like Chai being upset with him, it didn't work, but he didn't know any better ways to circumvent it.

"Hey, Jor," Xane muttered happily, bouncing from the waiting area to him happily, then shook his very blond hair out.

Jordan grinned at that, running a hand through it.

"We're in public," Xane reprimanded, pulling away.

"Well?"

"I have it in my luggage," Xane admitted. "Let's get back to base and get it marked in."

"All right," Jor muttered, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

"Jude?"

"This morning," Jordan agreed, starting to stroll back toward the luggage claim.

"Raul?"

"Every other day," Jordan shrugged. "He's taking your spot in Thailand."

"My hair," Xane muttered, tugging at the end of it. "If I dye it again it'll fry entirely. I need to just grow it out and then change it."

"I may not be able to get you Remalene," Jordan protested, looking to him.

"I can be remarkably clumsy, you know," the guy noted in amusement.

"Aren't those contacts bugging you?" Jordan added, glancing at the blue eyes. He was extremely bothered at Xane's voice coming from a blond haired blue-eyed guy's lips.

"Nope, got used to them a long time ago," Xane bounced along after his superior as they moved down the stairs. "You look tired."

"I had a run with Doug this morning," Jordan shrugged. "We got up early and followed Zechs around in town."

"You been to the Rest yet?"

"No, I'm gonna go after we get your stuff checked in."

Xane rubbed at his neck as he considered things. He knew that he had to go back to his place, James was waiting for him…granted, James didn't know that Xane was in yet, but if he actually just checked in…

It'd have to be an order, and the Rest was a volunteer project, so Jor couldn't order him to go, which meant that he'd have to hang out before going down.

Damn.

"What?" Jordan muttered, glancing back at him.

"You're not tired because you got up early," Xane shrugged as they headed toward the customer service desk. "You're tired because you're over-working yourself and that adds stress to your home-life."

Jordan rolled his eyes.

"I was going to go with you to the Rest, but I have to go to James."

"I don't like James," Jor noted helpfully.

"Which is why I have to go to him," Xane retorted. "He won't know I'm in, because you haven't felt the need to tell him. If I go with you now, it'd have to be an order, and since the mission is a volunteer program, you can't order me to go without some sort of assignment in Angels. Any assignment you'd have for me there would put me in Jon's territory, and you seem disinclined to pounce on that notion."

Jordan turned to give him a level look.

Xane shrugged, leaning against the counter as they reached it.

"Who else do you have to see today?" Jordan demanded acerbically. "You're not still on the 'only one' kick are you?"

"I got over that months ago," Xane retorted, rolling his eyes. "By your wedding, actually."

"I don't get how he can be so freaked out that you're cheating and still stays with you."

"It's not like I don't care about him," Xane retorted. "I'm just as big an asshole as you."

"And you want someone to come home to," Jor grumped.

"That's what you're for," Xane noted in amusement. "You'd noticed that, hadn't you?"

He got an extremely level look for the comment.

"How can I help you?" the man working asked curiously.

Xane set his ticket on the counter, smiling at the man.

"All right, just a moment…oh…are you his superior?" he asked Jordan.

Jordan nodded.

"All right, let me get the forms," the man turned and dug out some paperwork, passing that to Jordan with a pen before turning to the back.

Xane studied Jordan a moment, then turned his back to the desk to look the people over moving behind them. "My relationship with James is…hard," he admitted. "He knows I'm cheating on him, he just hasn't caught me yet."

"And what happens when he does?" Jor demanded.

"I don't know, it hasn't happened yet."

Jordan shook his head, signing the bottom of the sheet.

"How's Chai?"

"She was mad at me last night, but I think she's okay this morning," Jordan noted, considering it as he set the clipboard on the lower counter. "I was two hours late last night." He considered his friend a moment, considering his hair again.

"Don't touch it," Xane cautioned with a grin. "We're still in public."

"Whatever," Jor muttered, resting his head on his elbow on the counter-top.

Xane snorted slightly, rubbing at his eyes. "I need to go to bed soon, too."

"It'd only be four," Jor teased, straightening.

Xane moved to lean against his side. "It's still a fourteen hour flight."

"We're in public," Jordan reminded him gently.

Xane sighed and moved away again.

"Here you go, sir," the man muttered, offering Jordan a smaller sheet to sign. "This is in your care."

"Yes, thank you," Jordan returned, signing that and setting the pen down as he took the gun-case from the man. "Have a good day."

"You, too, thanks," the man returned, smiling at him as he started typing on the computer.

Jordan led Xane back through the bustle in silence, taking the stairs to get to the air-bridge that led to the parking garage. It didn't take them long to get to the van, and Xane moved quietly to sit in the passenger seat as Jordan stored the thing carefully in the back of the van.

He wanted his friend's report, but he had no intention of doing it in public.

Some things just weren't _done_ in public.

- -

**October 15, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 11am**

Chance bounced as he listened to his MP3 player. Shin had talked him into getting one when they'd ran to the store, and he'd dropped her off at Jor's house to do some run around authority crap, and she'd loaded the thing with music with Chai's help.

One of the various soldiers moved from Jordan's office, saluting him as he moved quickly down the hall.

Okay…

"Stop doing that, now," Jordan ordered darkly.

"Stop doing what?" Xane asked curiously.

"Mouthy!" Chance exclaimed, bouncing into the office to see the guy sitting on the arm of Jordan's chair.

"Hey," the green-eyed male returned, smiling up at him. "You just get in?"

Chance pulled the headphones from his ears to talk properly, then realized he couldn't remember the power button on his machine. He considered it a moment before nodding his response and looking up with a smile…and offering the thing to the younger male.

Xane considered that a moment, then got up and moved around the desk to…flick a button.

"Ooh, yeah," Chance grinned appreciatively at the guy. "How'd it go?"

"Go, fight, win?" the guy offered, moving back around to sit on the arm of the chair again and ruffle Jordan's hair.

"What's got you so pissy?" Chance added, noting his friend's expression.

"Every time I get up, this pile gets smaller," Jordan retorted, indicating the inbox on his desk glumly.

"That's a bad thing?" Chance asked blankly, sitting across from the guy. "That's my dream."

"_He_," he elbowed his second, "keeps giving them to people."

"Ow, don't," Xane pouted at him.

"Giving them…to people?" Chance raised an eyebrow at the other.

"It's called delegating," Xane explained. "He has at least twenty people a day that don't have all that much they can do…I'm giving them something to do and they feel special…I even made up information sheets," he added, passing a piece of paper to Chance from a pile under an open file.

It was a summary sheet, plain and simple.

Chance grinned.

"Don't encourage him," Jordan grumbled.

"I'll leave the really special ones for you," Xane reassured the male, messing his hair again.

There were steps in the hall.

Xane moved from the chair instantly, dropping onto the couch as he focused curiously on the door.

"Mr. Maxwell?" a woman asked, poking her head in, then blinked at the occupants.

"You wanna do this for me, too?" Jordan half growled at his companion, giving him a narrow eyed look.

"I'm…sorry…" she started.

"Sorry," Chance reassured her, jumping up and heading for the door. "Please," he added, gesturing into the room and smiling at her.

She gave him a confused look.

He smiled more at her, then looked pointedly to Xane.

The soldier had asked if Jor would _let_ him in the interim, and since he was just getting a look for it, he smiled more at his friend and followed the other male into the hall.

"How'd it go?" Chance asked, looking around a moment before heading toward his office.

"Normal," Xane shrugged. He tugged at his hair a bit, thinking. "I have to hang out until this mop grows out," he added. "I figured I'd come in here and get the world off Jor's shoulders."

"He's a sturdy man," Chance noted in amusement. "Maybe not so sturdy as Atlas, but there you go."

"Atlas was turned to stone."

Chance flashed him a grin, unlocking the door to his area. "Can I get you to go get my mail?" he added, offering the guy the key to his inbox.

"Ye'sa," Xane returned impudently, smiling almost coyly at him before turning and disappearing.

Chance snorted at that, pulling his MP3 player back out and considering the buttons on the edge. The power button even said power…couldn't get more simple than that. The volume was controlled by the main button along with just about everything else, so that was good, too…

He tucked the thing into a drawer, pulling out his cell phone and setting that on the desk top as he hit the message button his phone.

"Hello, Mr. Yuy," a pleasant male voice noted. "This is Fredrick Dorl with Calhub International, and I was given this number to organize a donation…"

Chance smiled slightly as he started writing.

Those were the really _happy_ messages.

- -

**October 15, A.C. 204. Base. 4:30pm**

"He reem you out?" Doug asked tiredly, sitting next to Trowa.

"Who? Jor?" Trowa gave him a startled look. "Why? What happened?"

"I couldn't do anything right is all," the man returned with another heavy sigh. He rubbed at his neck. "He was on me about walking in quiet areas, he was on me about where my focus was…about how far behind the mark we were…I see what Mario meant…Xane'n'em must work damn hard to please him."

Trowa considered that a moment, then tossed the report folder in his friend's lap.

Doug blinked at him, then opened it to look at the comments page.

_Fillmore performed excellently with few points of rebuke. His status is higher than a soldier of his level and profession could be expected. Request for a true training enclosed._

Doug blinked again.

"His grammar is special…or his word choice? Maybe sentence structure," Trowa took the folder back. "But his meaning was obvious."

"What does he mean, true training?"

"Train you like he did Mouthy and his team," Trowa shrugged. "He did the same for Allul and Robert, too. I'm thinking Marks will get the same note tomorrow morning."

"He was being hard on me, though," Doug protested, blinking at his superior. "How could he just turn it around to me being fine?"

"You do better than a mech boy should, but not as good as a spy-boy. Don't worry at it so hard. He's stressed lately and waking up early was never really his forte…and don't criticize your superiors."

Doug grinned slightly at that, then raised an eyebrow.

"I need a break," Trowa muttered, considering the paperwork in front of him. "Your house open?"

"Are you smoking?" Doug protested, sitting up to look at him properly. "You're not, are you?"

"Of course not," Trowa rolled his eyes. "Never mind, I'm gonna go on a drive," he started to stand.

Doug rested a hand on his forearm, studying his face with a larger frown. "Trowa…"

"Don't you have stuff to do?" Trowa retorted, giving him a dark look.

"Sorry, sir," Doug settled back, frowning more at the man, then shook his head.

"I'm fucking tired," Trowa snapped at him, then moved pointedly to the door.

Doug sighed, rising and moving to follow him out.

He wasn't sure who he should talk to…Trowa's superiors or Trowa's friends…neither seemed like the best of choice…but if Trowa was seriously taking a break from work to do illegal drugs…

"Don't they do random drug screening?" he asked quietly as the other man locked the door. "Come on…you know it'll come up in intensive."

"If it's not in my system they don't turn it in," Trowa retorted. "And I don't plan to do intensive any time soon."

"Yeah…" the man frowned, looking around as he thought. "Is Wufei in his office?"

"How the fuck would I know?" Trowa retorted irritably, then shook his head and walked away.

Doug saluted after him, raising a nail to his mouth as he thought. He'd rather go to Chance or Jordan, but since it was already three in the afternoon, they'd both be down at the Rest.

…he didn't actually have anything to do.

The soldier started for his own car…but his drive had a destination.


	5. 05

— **05** —

**October 15, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 4:45pm**

Jordan sighed as he read through a report. He was sitting on the little couch with his legs propped on the far arm...and Xane was under them. For a long while the guy had just been messing with his pant-leg, but Jordan'd distracted him with a request form–so his legs were also being used as a desk, but it was comfortable enough.

The day was going by smoothly, and though he really didn't want to admit it, the summary sheets seemed to cover most of the information necessary...he'd read through two of them on his own when his second had been off running around with Chance.

Anyway, all the reports that needed to be done for the day were done, and he'd put the information into the computer, too. He was reading the report in case someone else showed up that'd need his authorization. That, and the fact that he hadn't even done half as much work as normal was bothering him.

"Were you worried about me?" Xane asked curiously.

Jordan started, looking to his second in confusion since they'd been sitting in silence for at least an hour. "What?"

"When I was out," Xane returned, shoving his legs off the edge of the couch. "Were you worried about me?"

"Not as much as Judas, but your end wasn't as openly dangerous as his."

"But you were?"

Jordan raised an eyebrow slightly. "I suppose so...yeah."

Xane smiled at him, standing and stretching. "You done with that one?"

"Just about," Jordan returned, considering the last page of the document.

"I'm gonna get us drinks," Xane informed him, "then we need to head back." He glanced at his watch.

Jordan looked to his own and blinked, realizing it was already going on five.

"Hey, you about ready?" Chance demanded, shoving into the office unceremoniously and blinking at Xane.

Jordan gave him a flat, unfriendly, stare and then looked back to the report.

Xane gave Chance an annoyed sort of look and shoved his superior from the room in front of him. "He's gonna finish that one and I'm gonna pull him out of here," the green-eyed male explained. "If we both keep on him about getting home on time he'll feel like he's being scolded. I'm here, I've got it."

"I just was making sure, I forgot you were here," Chance shrugged. "Aren't you tired?"

"About exhausted," the guy shrugged. "I'm gonna go home and sleep until dawn, then figure out some way to hurt myself bad enough they'll give me Remalene so I can get rid of this mop," he tugged at his blond hair.

Chance considered that and nodded, moving around the guy toward the office.

"Don't pester," Xane protested.

"Go about your business, Featihl," the Japanese male reprimanded.

Xane gave him a look, then darted down the hall with a salute.

Chance moved back into the office, smiling at his friend.

"I know I need to finish," Jor retorted to the words he assumed were coming.

"Actually, it was about the Remalene," Chance retorted, moving to lean against the corner of the desk. "If you go talk to Morris and keep it quiet, he can give it to Mouthy. It'd be a low dosage, but...the thing would be the intensive."

"You think so?"

"It'd be a valid reason...changes of appearances for spies...seems to be in the job description, and even the most self-sufficient guy can't get his hair to grow six inches in three days."

Jordan grinned at that, thinking. "I'll...I'll see, do you mind? My second is bound and determined to get me out of here on the stroke of five, so I want to finish this," he moved the papers.

"Oh, fine," Chance retorted. "I'm going to pick up Shin...like now...so if you're not on base by the time I get there..."

"You'll what?" Jor retorted, meeting his eyes. "We haven't went head to head in a while, you sure you want to threaten me?"

Chance flashed him a wicked grin as he stopped in the door. "We aren't trying to work together. You're in charge of this part, I organize donations...we don't have to be muzzled when we both have our own bowls...be home."

Jor gave him a look, but he pretended it hadn't happened and walked off...which made Jor grin.

He really liked Chance...he could be so refreshingly annoying sometimes...

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 2am**

Judas moved tiredly into his crap room in his crap apartment in a broken and worn down part of Berlin. It was two in the morning, and he still had to stay up another hour and a half so he could check in with Jor. He wasn't so tired that he had to crash immediately, but he was just about done for the day...it was one of the only problems about the group he ran around with anymore. They stayed up until one or two nightly before going home.

The man dropped on his bed, since it was a studio apartment, and studied his vid. Jordan was serious about calling via vid at least once a month. Other than that he'd leave it to his cell. Judas still had about two weeks for the visual, but he wanted to _see_ his superior. He missed his family unit and his friends at the base. It made it harder to mesh in seamlessly with the damned drug-lords...plus Jordan had been about freaking out when he'd been late on his last call in.

Considering that he hadn't thought he was very tired, he was glad he'd set his cell to beep at three-thirty. He blinked as he woke back up, turning the alarm off before standing and looking around the room.

"Hey, you're on time for once," Mouthy teased.

"What are you doing back?" Judas retorted, blinking at him.

"You look like shit, what time is it there? Three-thirty? You goin' soft on me?"

Judas gave him a look.

"Xane," Jordan protested, shoving the guy away and studying his man over. "You do look bad."

"We stay up until two most of the time," Judas shrugged. "I have to get up again at eight."

"Six hours is nothing," Xane noted half-excitedly.

"Just because you haven't gotten six hours in thirty three," Jor noted pointedly. He focused back on the screen. "And?"

"I met up with Brantley tonight," Judas returned promptly. "He seemed to like me well enough. He told Vigor and Orson to bring me back tomorrow."

"Are you all right?" Jordan returned, studying him seriously.

"I'm fine," Judas reassured him. "I'll crash when we're done...I fell asleep, but had my alarm set."

"Under what title?"

"Bed time," Judas shrugged slightly.

"All right," Jordan returned. "Any trouble and call me immediately. The resources are available."

"Sir," Judas nodded respectfully.

"So how are you?" Jordan added as Xane moved into his arms tiredly. "What's going on?"

"Same shit," Judas shrugged slightly, "different bird."

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Base. 9am**

"Oi, Chang," Paris moved quickly to check up with Wufei and Morgan. "You want me to do this, too?" he offered them a notebook.

"If you want," Wufei returned, grinning at him. "Good morning."

"Morning," Paris muttered, opening the thing to read down the information sheet Morgan had made up. "You might want to get about twenty more of these," he added, glancing at them.

"What? Why?" Morgan gave him a confused look.

"You didn't overly impress anyone with your speech," Paris grinned at them, "but Calvin noted you were sincerely trying to help, and that they didn't have to go in for testing...just about everyone in the building decided to go for it."

Morgan and Wufei exchanged a look–they were happy, sure, but it also meant that they had to _read_ that many notebooks.

"What?" Paris teased, flashing them a wicked grin. "Did you honestly think your trying to help would come to not?"

"I didn't think _everyone_ would want one," Morgan admitted nervously. "I thought there'd be a pile there for a long while."

"They're gone," Paris shrugged. "I only got one because Gina grabbed it for me. It took until about eight last night for people to start asking how to get ahold of you."

Wufei looked to Morgan again, and Morgan gave him a nervous look.

"Ooh, what did you do?" Paris asked happily...before passing the information sheet to Wufei with another wicked grin.

Wufei's home-line was the one listed for a contact.

He stopped.

Paris laughed happily. "We're a considerate lot, us empaths," he noted. "They won't have started calling until...an hour ago," he glanced at his watch. "If you hurry, you might only have nine or ten messages."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Wufei accused. "Why didn't _you_ call me?"

Paris laughed again and shrugged. "I honestly didn't think about it until about...two seconds before I saw you."

"Oh, geeze," Morgan ran a hand down his face, then shrugged. "Not my house."

"You're the genius with the notebooks," Wufei retorted. "You're reading more of them than I am."

"Such an early time in the relationship to start bickering," Paris posed dramatically with his hands over his heart, then started laughing happily. "Chai's for supper, right?"

"Yeah," Wufei agreed sullenly. "See you then."

"Chai's gonna go shopping," Paris noted, stopping before he actually moved. "I'm gonna see if I can go along–if she minds, you know? Maybe you guys can come?"

"I'll call her after a while," Wufei noted, then sighed and looked back to his second.

"Yeah, I'll get food," Morgan sighed as well, then waved at Paris and headed for the canteen–he and Wufei had been going there anyway.

"I'll be sure she knows you're interested," Paris noted to Wufei. "Sorry I didn't think to call you before the messages started."

"It's fine, you didn't mean wrong," Wufei dismissed his guilt, then sighed and turned back toward his car.

Paris watched him a moment, then smiled and headed into the canteen himself.

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 4pm**

Raul moved onto his plane, looking the airport over behind himself, then shook his head. Of all things to be stricter than hell, airport security was one of them. They were vigorous in keeping the inconvenient away from the plains. One delay in the middle of a German airport would have ripples across at least Europe, if not the whole world.

Raul didn't _want_ to leave Judas alone in the gutter, but Xane had dyed his hair, meaning he had to grow it out, and someone _had_ to be in Thailand.

That aside, his aim in Berlin wasn't even striking _near_ to home for the dealers. Jordan's resources in the city were fine and capable, but they didn't like some guy waltzing in out of nowhere without forewarning. They'd assigned a few people to work with Raul, but he more or less had to figure the information out himself, because _their_ superior, whoever they worked for, hadn't _said_ to render aid. Jordan could have circumvented that by getting their leader onto his side, but he'd noted it wasn't necessary since Jude was on the inside. The resources just had to be ready to save Judas if it came to the wire.

It was something of a relief to be heading on...hopefully the Thai resources were more helpful.

The spy sighed heavily and sat in the window seat of his isle and tucked the bag he'd carried on under the seat in front of him as more people filed into the machine talking with each other in quiet German. He knew German fluently, just like Judas, they'd taken it in high school. He didn't know Thai though...and that would have to be the next thing he worked on.

At least the flight would be good for something, but he wasn't going to get into his book until they were in the air, that way no one who didn't need to see his destination would figure it out.

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"All right," Jordan muttered, leaning over and kissing Chai. "I have to go to that meeting now."

"I still think it's poor they scheduled it on a Saturday," Chai noted glumly. "You're supposed to be free on weekends."

"The Mozambique ambassador asked us to come. We can't not go," he shrugged. "I don't know what he wants."

"I know," she reassured him with another sigh and another kiss. "You look good in uniform," she noted, straightening his lapels.

"You look good in anything," he returned the compliment as Quatre moved from his room. "Or in nothing at all," he added in a whisper.

Chai laughed and smacked him, shoving him away.

Jordan smiled at her, then turned to see the end of a roll of the eyes. "What?"

"I didn't say anything," Quatre retorted, making a throwaway gesture at him. "Let's go."

"Yes sir, captain, sir."

Quatre gave him a look.

Jordan grinned, and moved from the house.

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Base. 11:45am**

"If we raised this force," Chance muttered, studying the map of Mozambique, "don't you think it'd be seen as us siding with you?"

The man stared at him.

"Let me try again," Chance suggested, considering briefly. "I understand how stressful it must be to have rebels across your country stirring up trouble on your border. But don't you think if we showed up in force in your country alone people might get nervous? What I mean is, if we enter Mozambique in force, they'll either think we're taking over, or that you're getting us to attack."

"But we don't have the resources to deal with this," the man protested. "We _have_ to have help."

"I can understand that fully," Chance reassured him. "And I do want to help...but we can't be seen as taking sides. If we go into Mozambique, we'll have to go into Tanzania, too."

"Then _do_ it," the man persisted, staring at him in dismay.

"It's not that simple," Wufei said quickly. "We have to get permission from the Tanzanian government before we can take any steps at all. You've said they aren't even admitting there might be a problem...so until open fighting starts ups, we can't really move. They _might_ let us in on good faith, but that's up to chance."

The man frowned, looking down at the table a moment before looking to Chance.

"Besides which," Chance noted, sitting forward again, "the five of us can't do it," he gestured toward his companions.

The man sighed and sat heavily in his chair. "You're supposed to be the Earthsphere Council," he protested, giving Chance a sad sort of look.

"We are," Chance noted, studying him seriously. "But even so, we can't just go show up in one country when they're having problems with another country. There's a balance of fairness we have to uphold. I'll get people talking to the Tanzanian ambassador. We'll do what we can, because open rebellion is bad when the government isn't corrupt. We may be able to get people down there on that note alone...I'll see what I can do, but you can't fully rely on _us_ for this."

"That's as it should be," the man admitted, looking slightly relieved as he offered is hand. They shook, and he made his way around the table, thanking them all personally for coming and apologizing that it had to be set up on a day they weren't on technical duty.

"Have a good day," Chance added as he followed Jordan from the room. Trowa and Wufei had led the way out. Quatre had hesitated a moment until he realized Jordan was behind him, then they all moved into the hall.

They were all giving Quatre curious looks.

"He's stressed," Quatre admitted. "I think the high ambassador pushed this off onto him. I'll give you the full rundown when we get back to the house."

"We were going back to the house?" Wufei asked sweetly.

Quatre gave him a look.

"Next question is, which house?" Wufei added, bouncing slightly. "Trowa and I seem to have one, Heero has one..."

"Don't call me that," Chance reprimanded.

Wufei ignored that. "And then you have one with Jordan."

"Considering that _I_ said it, it should be assumed I meant _my_ house," Quatre retorted.

"You have a house?" Jordan teased as they moved into the hall. "Then why are you still living with us?"

Quatre smacked him.

Jordan snickered slightly, then looked to the group main. "Let's just go to my place and get my woman to get us some lunch. We've been neglecting her, and I prefer _not_ to do that when I can help it."


	6. 06

— **06** —

**October 16, A.C. 204. Base. 12:30pm**

Doug stopped on the threshold of Jordan's house when Chai had let him in, blinking at all five of the former pilots sitting around the living room.

"Come in, I made lunch," Chai noted happily, smiling at him. "Have a seat, and don't mind their uniforms, they're just back from a meeting."

Doug nodded at her in acceptance, moving more into the living room.

"What are you doing here?" Trowa asked curiously.

"I know of this sweet woman who gives you food when you show up on her doorstep," Doug grinned at him.

"Oh, what_ever_," Chai retorted happily from the kitchen. A moment later she appeared with a bowl of savory stew...which they were all eating. She passed it to the soldier, then gave him a look.

Doug grinned at her, moving around to sit next to his superior on the carpet. "What's going on?"

Really, he was irritated. He'd left the base the at four-thirty the previous day and headed straight for the Rest...only to find out he'd missed both Chance and Jordan by about ten minutes. By the time he'd gotten back for supper, he'd had to rush to the mess hall. Small things had cropped up for the rest of the evening until he'd had to go to bed.

When he finally caught exactly who he wanted to talk to, they had to be _in_ Barton's company.

Quatre gave him a confused and curious look, though he wasn't letting the others see it.

"We had a meeting with an ambassador," Jordan explained happily. "Something about rebels and buy-ins...what part of land did we want, that sort of fun stuff."

They all turned to _look_ at him.

Jordan laughed again.

"You're bad," Doug noted, grinning back.

"No, I'm good," Jordan retorted, his smile turning somewhat proud. "I'm _damn_ good."

"And he's not talking about in bed," Chai noted.

The group died laughing at that as Jordan gave his wife a confused sort of demanding look.

Chai started giggling.

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Base. 4pm**

"Are you coming or what?" Trowa protested at Doug.

"I wanted to talk to him," Quatre protested, stepping up beside the man. "He'll be along in a bit."

"Quatre, I'm leaving in five minutes," Trowa protested.

"Okay, so he'll be there in two, come on," Quatre gave the guy a look.

Trowa sighed irritably, then climbed into his car.

"Come on," Quatre suggested, prodding the soldier back toward the house. "What was all that about?" he gestured at the area Doug had been sitting as Chance and Jordan gave him curious looks.

"Which?" Chai asked, moving from the kitchen and stopping. "Oh...what's up?"

Doug looked between the three men nervously, then shrugged uncomfortably.

Now that he had the opportunity, he didn't want to say. He knew they'd all instantly get on Trowa about it, and that would put him in even more stress. The soldier started fiddling with his keys and looked down, shaking his head.

"You were all sorts of irritated when you came in and saw us all sitting here," Quatre noted pointedly. "Then you've been anxious since Tro and Fei said they were taking off. You let me keep you behind when you _want_ to go with Tro, so spill. Something's up. You didn't come here for the food; that much I can tell."

"It was good food?" Doug offered, meeting his eyes.

Quatre frowned at him.

"What's up?" Jor asked curiously. "Why are you all nervous now? What aren't you telling us?"

"That would be telling you," Doug noted, backing away. "Listen...Trowa will seriously leave without me, I've got to go."

"Let me drive you," Quatre suggested.

Doug gave him a look, heading for the door. "I'd rather run."

Chance and Jor exchanged looks before focusing on Quatre again.

"Bye, Doug," Chai muttered, smiling at him. "Come back tomorrow for lunch, huh?"

"I'll try," Doug reassured her...and darted out the door.

Chance and Jor focused on the empath.

"Something's up with Tro," Quatre supplied. "And he was going to tell us until Trowa was here, then he stewed on it too long and lost the courage."

"What could be up with Tro?" Chance asked in confusion.

"I couldn't tell you," Quatre shrugged. "He's mostly normal enough, but we don't live together anymore."

"Hm," Chance considered his friend a moment, then shrugged and looked to Jordan. "You're helping me move."

"Sorry, my girl wants to go out," Jordan returned promptly.

"I didn't ask," Chance retorted.

"I'm sorry, it's out of my hands," Jor shrugged, offering his palms as if the refusal was a visible thing.

Quatre grinned, moving into the kitchen.

"Oh, just help him," Chai ordered her husband, moving from the kitchen again. "If you do it fast, it'll be done."

Jor gave her a look.

"You, too," she added to Quatre. "If you all double-team it, it'll take about two minutes."

"How do five people double-team something?" Jordan protested at her.

"By poking fun at their wife and getting kicked out for the night," she retorted.

"Hey!" Jor protested, starting to laugh again.

Chai giggled herself and steered Quatre from the kitchen. "Your nails just got manicured," she noted. "Don't go getting them wet."

"They did _not_," Quatre protested at her, looking at his nails–sure, they were shaped and shiny...

Chai shoved him again.

"It's _my_ turn to do dishes," Quatre persisted, moving back toward the kitchen.

"Actually, it's Jor's turn," she noted.

"Okay, Chance, let's go," Jordan agreed quickly, jumping to his feet.

Chai started laughing.

"Come on, Q," Chance suggested to the other. "If we're fast enough at this, you can come back and take over for her."

"You're missing my point," Quatre informed him.

Jordan flashed his wife a naughty grin, since she was in the hall, then shoved the blond for the front of the house. He almost darted after, then stopped and turned back toward her...which nearly ran him into Chance...then he darted around and kissed her sweetly...once or twice...and followed his friends from the house.

Chai rolled her eyes, moving back toward the sink. In all reality, Jordan was fairly hopeless at doing the dishes. He never scrubbed things off plates properly which led to clean food crusted on the plate. If he was doing the dishes to be sweet she let him, but other than that she chased him away from it.

She wasn't entirely sure why Quatre wanted to get his hands dirty with dishes instead of with helping his friend move...but it didn't matter anyway, because it wouldn't take them more than a half hour to get the job done anyway.

She set about cleaning _her_ kitchen in _her_ house, smiling happily as she did so.

She was damn lucky.

- -

**October 17, A.C. 204. Imperia, Italy. 6am**

"But it wouldn't pay for my men to have low quality weaponry," Danielle protested sweetly to the man she'd been dealing with. "What point would that be? I could buy them from an army surplus store."

"Those weapons are tracked," he protested quickly, sitting down in front of her. "Those weapons have trackers in them so the government always knows where they at."

And his English had seemed so _good_ at first...

She considered him a moment. "I need to see the merchandise before I'll consent to buying it. My man will check them over for defects," she indicated one of the men of her entourage. They mostly looked like bodyguards, but this one was playing assistant.

"Let me...confer," he muttered, rising and moving closer to the area Riley was hiding in as he hit a button on his phone.

Danielle sighed as she turned to face the resource with a slight smile. "I'm sorry this is taking so long," she apologized quietly. "I truly thought they'd be more than happy to let me see the weapons."

"They have to protect their own interests," the man returned with a slight shrug. "All things in their time."

Danielle nodded again, looking back to the man who was muttering into his phone with his mouth partially covered. She'd have loved to have an earpiece with Riley to hear what he was saying, but they weren't sure how technologically advanced this group was. It wouldn't due for Riley to be found out because she herself was curious.

She couldn't wait to get back to the base again–maybe she could patch things up with Wufei. She really _did_ miss him...

"Mind on our business, ma'am," one of the bodyguards muttered.

Danielle realized she'd been staring off into space and focused again on the man who was starting to come back to her. She smiled happily at him.

"Fine," he said, evidently pushed to the edge of his English abilities, since the word had a heavy accent to it. "Bring your man and two man," he held up two fingers...and started for the door.

Danielle considered him coolly a moment, then indicated three men should follow.

They gave her amused looks, moving obediently after.

She played the part of a spoiled rich woman very well, she even had the diva qualities down like she'd practiced them from birth...and her Italian was good, too.

The two groups separated with no ceremony, and headed for their separate destinations.

- -

**October 16, A.C. 204. Inado, California, United States. 7pm**

"Chance!"

"Chaz!" Chance moved across the walk toward the opening of Seven Deadly Sins.

"I'm surprised to see you out here," Chaz muttered, looking him over with interest. "You fighting with your girl or something?"

Chance shrugged somewhat uncomfortably at the guy and shook his head. "I'm gonna find Tro, and Jor might come out with Mouthy."

"Oh," the guy looked a little disheartened, then shrugged with a grin. "You goin' back?"

"A month away from my wedding?" Chance retorted in amusement. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Shin knew you were out here, didn't she?" he protested.

"The key thing is the word 'wedding'," the soldier noted, making air-quotes. "It's this nifty unity thing you do when you find the _one_ person you want to be with the rest of your life."

Chaz rolled his eyes. "Preach at me, Chance, see how far it gets you."

"I'm not preaching at you," Chance retorted. "I'm just explaining to you why I don't play back-room anymore. I kinda thought it might be a foreign concept for you."

The man flashed him a grin.

"You're the last, huh?" Chance added, thinking back to his group of friends. "We're ally marrying off one by one...you lookin' for someone or just skating?"

"Skating," the guy shrugged. "Maybe I'll get lucky some day and find a back-room girl to marry."

"I think that was just a special event for me," Chance noted in amusement. "Come on, Tro's been acting weird lately, maybe you can talk him into goin' back with you."

"I don't need anyone to go back with me," Chaz noted pointedly. "Pearl tastes the same whether you're by yourself or in a group of ten."

"Come on, let me set you up," Chance added somewhat eagerly. "I can find you someone..."

"A soldier?" the man demanded. "Someone to come and go like you? No thank you. I'll stick with the back-rooms sort of chances."

"I know...some...people...who aren't soldiers," Chance noted, then actually thought about it. "Dude...are you straight?"

Chaz laughed at that and elbowed him, which made him start laughing.

"Chance..."

Chance turned to see Xane slamming through the entrance with an obviously pissed expression. "Mouthy?" he asked.

"Fuckin' James," Xane explained, gesturing irritably behind himself. "He's _pissing_ me off."

"What'd he do this time?"

"Haha," Xane retorted, moving around the guy before he stopped and met eyes with Chaz.

"Hey, Mouth," the guy muttered.

"Hey, home-wrecker."

Chaz grinned at that.

"So what's going on?" Chance persisted.

"James waited until we were at the door to tell me he didn't _really_ want to come out tonight, that we shoulda just stayed home."

"You were gone a couple weeks," the Japanese male hazarded.

"Yeah, so I want to come have fun with my friends...damn," he turned away from them, composing himself.

"We aren't empaths," Chaz noted in amusement. "You're guy comin' in or what?"

"Or what," Xane returned, rolling his eyes. "He drove tonight and said he was leaving with or without me. I decided to fuck it and came in anyway. Jor's coming down with Chai in a while, so I knew I'd have a ride back in the end."

"Even if it _is_ the end," Chaz suggested. "He's not gonna leave you is he?"

"I honestly don't give a fuck right now," Xane retorted, running his hands through his hair.

"Fibber," Chance reprimanded. "If you didn't care, you'd have ditched him by now."

"I need a drink," Xane noted...and walked off.

"He's in a chipper humor," Chaz mused.

"Yuy?"

Chance turned to the doors again as James himself stormed into the building. He stopped and looked Chaz over before looking back to Chance again. "Where's Xane?"

"Getting a drink," Chance returned, gesturing toward the bar. "You hanging out?"

"I have to, don't I?" the man retorted.

"Not really. I have a car that works...Jor has a car that works...hell, Tro has one that works. The fun thing is that they all have more than one seat."

The guy obviously wanted to retort to that, but Chance _was_ his superior. He gave the man a disgusted look, then stormed toward the bar.

"Ten to one they're both single by final call," Chaz noted, amused.

"You're an ass," Chance returned, grinning a bit. "But Mouthy's kept it up this long, I don't think this will end it."

"I dunno, they both look a little riled."

"James is annoying," Chance shrugged.

"Adonis!"

Chance's face split into a true grin as he turned and scooped Chai into his arms as she giggled and hugged him back.

"I think I shouldn't have made that note to her," Jordan noted to Chaz.

"Which note? What?" Chaz shook his hand as he gave the guy a confused look.

"Back when Chance first found me again...she was asking me if he impressed me," he indicated Chance with a nod of his head. "I noted that he was a god and she's been calling him Adonis ever since."

Chaz smirked at that as Chai turned to greet him.

Chance frowned slightly, looking toward the bar with a tilt of his head to indicate Xane and James, who were bickering.

"Oh, great," Jordan rolled his own eyes.

"What?" Chaz asked blankly, looking between them.

"I don't like James," Jordan shrugged as he moved past. "Go scout us a table, huh?" he added to the group. "I'll get the drinks and food."

Chaz watched him in bemusement a moment before looking back to Chance.

"We read body language?" Chance offered.

"How about this?" Chai asked, flicking her hips.

"I'll dance with you all night," Chance returned, scooping her up in one arm.

Chai giggled at that.

"I'll go get us a table," Chaz muttered.

"You're the best," Chai gushed at him...and Chance swept her toward the dance floor.

For all that Chaz hadn't thought he'd do anything but hit the back room, he didn't mind being engulfed in a group...

"Chaz!"

Chaz looked up to a redheaded male who looked vaguely familiar.

"Hey, Chaz," Trowa greeted him. "Come sit down, huh?"

"Chance, Jor, Chai, Mouthy and...James...are here," Chaz noted. "I'm table scouting."

"Ours is big enough," Trowa reassured him in amusement. "Help me pull this table over," he indicated a near-by empty.

Chaz shrugged and complied.


	7. 07

— 07 —

**October 17, A.C. 204. Base. 9am**

"Hello, Lieutenant General Chang."

Wufei turned to look at the young man who'd spoken to him. The kid was standing properly at attention with a salute. He grinned. "Chang is faster, I don't need any prefixes."

The guy grinned at him.

"Hello," Wufei added, offering his hand.

"I'm Trent Brown," the guy explained. "I'm..."

"Oh, one of Maxwell's new recruits, right?" Wufei grinned at him. "Nice to meet you."

The guy gave him an interested look.

"Maxwell was telling us how he's getting another group of ten," Wufei shrugged. "He's gonna have a fine time balancing work and the Rest now...I have to go, I'm heading for the M building," he noted happily, starting past the guy, then hesitated. "How do you know me?"

"Simple observation?" Trent offered, smiling sweetly at him.

Wufei gave him a look, grinned, then headed for his car again. He was really hoping his hung-over brethren would be alive come ten, because he was getting damn hungry and wanted to eat. He didn't need _them_ to eat, sure, but...

He slid happily into his car, noting that the boy was heading into the main building.

Why was he running around on a Sunday?

Wufei shook his head and started to back out.

It didn't really matter.

- -

**October 17, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

Jordan gestured for Xane to follow him into the hall that led to Dr. Morris' office.

"So, Mr. Maxwell," Morris muttered, sliding into his seat. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello, Dr. Morris," Jordan returned, closing the door and indicating his second. "This is Featihl, my second."

Morris considered Xane a moment, then nodded at him respectfully.

"He bleached it," Jor added, tugging at the length of the guy's hair.

"Yes, I see that," Morris noted, grinning slightly at the guy before looking back to Xane.

Jordan dropped unceremoniously into a chair across from the man. "He needs Remalene."

"He doesn't look injured."

"It'll grow his hair out faster," Jor noted conversationally. "I need his hair before the month is out."

"I'm sure he won't mind letting you cut it," Morris noted in amusement.

Jordan gave him a look.

Morris sniggered, looking back to the soldier again.

"Can you help me or do I have to get offensive and offer you cash?"

"Cash is nice," the man noted, sitting up slightly. He smirked at the other, then rolled his eyes. "You want me to give your boy Remalene to grow his hair out? Despite the fact that it's a highly controlled substance?"

"Yes," Jordan agreed, shrugging slightly.

"Why?" the man asked bluntly, leaning against his elbows some.

"Because I need his hair color changed before the month is up?" Jordan asked, giving him a look. "No offense intended, but the fine details are classified. Any more dye and it'll be completely fried and I need this as natural as possible."

"Under what authority?" the man asked levelly.

Jordan raised his eyebrows at that, then sat up so the three stars pinned to his shirt-pocket were evident.

Morris looked somewhat apprehensive at that, noticing the rank-marks himself.

"So, can we do this or not?" Jordan added pointedly. "I don't know the finer laws of controlled drugs. I don't have to hurt him, do I?"

Morris gave him a look, then looked to Xane sidelong to see his reaction.

Xane was watching the man wordlessly.

"I need a good enough reason to write down," Morris noted, dropping his eyes as he started digging through a large pile of papers on his desk.

"My behest?" Jordan asked curiously, thinking about it. "Case SPC 221."

"SPC?" the man asked, focusing on him intently. "Special?"

"I told you it was obvious," Xane noted to Jordan.

Jordan gave him a look. "I didn't make up the abbreviation, don't prod at me."

"You have special cases?" Morris asked blankly.

"You _are_ a special case," Xane noted quietly, rubbing at his mouth as he said it.

Jordan smacked him.

Morris flicked him a grin.

"Can we do this or not?" Jordan added pointedly to his doctor.

"Yes, Sir," the man returned, smiling more at him and tossing a sheet of paper at him. "That's for him...I'll have one for you in a second, then we can schedule his intensive."

"Great," Jordan returned, passing that paper to the guy.

"You get to sign off on all _sorts_ of paperwork, you realize that don't you?" Morris beamed at him a bit as he offered him a considerably thicker packet of papers.

"Wonderful," Jordan sighed, taking that and studying it.

"I'll leave the two of you to fill that out and be back in...twenty minutes," he smiled beatifically at Jordan again...then left the office.

"I like him," Xane noted brightly to Jor.

Jordan gave him a very level look. "Ha. Ha. Ha."

- -

**October 17, A.C. 204. Base. 11am**

"What _is_ intensive?" Xane muttered to Chance as they sat around the table at the canteen.

"Where the doctor does unspeakable things to your body while you're blindfolded," Chance explained easily, flashing his friend an innocent grin.

Xane gave him a look.

"What? It's fun." He started laughing naughtily at his own joke as Wufei looked to them curiously.

"She almost puked," Jor noted, still considering his story. Their drive home from Sins had been entertaining. The drive should have taken maybe a half hour, and they hadn't gotten home for a bit more than. "I told her to gag herself and she started crying."

Wufei guffawed, looking back to him.

"I'm serious," Xane added quietly, studying the rest of the group as he spoke.

Trowa was severely withdrawn, but didn't have too many signs of a hangover. He had the fingertips of his left hand propping up his head as he twirled a coin around on the table in front of him. Quatre was relaxing against the man and watching Jordan talk. It didn't look like he was listening, and the better three-quarters of the breakfast he'd ordered was still sitting in front of him. Wufei himself was at the end of the booth, perfectly awake and happy since he hadn't gone out.

Though he couldn't see him, Jordan was across from the Chinese man, and Chance was somehow managing to incorporate his swagger and cockiness into his sitting position. Since Xane had started talking to him, more of his body was facing the younger male, but before he'd been somewhat sprawled across his space.

"Why?" Chance asked, giving him an entirely blank look. "What could even possibly be so interesting about it?"

"Jordan talked to Morris before we came here," Xane explained. "I have intensive in about an hour."

Chance blinked at that, then grinned extremely wickedly at him.

"Stop that," Xane protested, smacking his leg.

"Oh, that's right," Chance muttered, leaning into Xane's personal space. "What my friends see as obnoxiousness appeals, huh?"

Trowa raised an eyebrow, looking between them.

"Jor," Xane called.

"Stop that," Jordan reprimanded, smacking the Japanese male hard in the leg.

"Ouch, shit..." Chance almost giggled as he turned to return the blow...which led in about two seconds to the pair falling out of the booth laughing.

"You two," Wufei grumbled, rolling his eyes and moving his leg.

Quatre sniggered lightly, looking back to Xane. "It's not bad...no need for anxiousness. They take a needle-full or two of your blood, swab your mouth...and take your hair. The term refers to the testing they do to the blood, not the body."

"Oh," Xane let out a slightly relieved breath, frowning a little more. "And then?"

"And they tell you what you've got," Trowa shrugged. "They tell you what drugs you've done...they could probably tell the first time you fucked if they really wanted to."

"Trowa," Quatre reprimanded, elbowing him.

Trowa laughed a bit at that, then moved his arm around to drape it around his friend.

"But they don't tell you the funnest part," Chance noted, sliding back in and up against the male again. "They don't tell you what they do with the really _big_ needle," he measured a foot or so in front of them.

Xane did _not_ believe that, and made sure to express it with a look.

"Keep your kinks out of the doctor's office," Jor suggested, sitting himself.

Chance started laughing, then made a disturbed and disgusted face, smacking the other.

Jor laughed, then leaned forward to look at his second. "It's only this big," he measured six inches or so with the fingers of one hand, then grinned wickedly.

"You're mean," Quatre informed the males pointedly.

"He's a big boy, he can take it, I mean...shit...James," Chance shrugged a bit expansively as Jordan started laughing wickedly.

"Hey!" Xane half-squawked in protest...and shoved the guy toward the end of the bench, using the wall and his legs to be sure he _went_ over. Jordan was laughing too hard to protest, but he did regain his feet. Chance, however, toppled backwards out of the seat, trying vainly to grasp at _something_...

Wufei, Quatre, and Trowa started laughing at that.

"Isn't it a little early in the morning?" Chai asked, stopping a few feet away to look at the males.

"Chai!" Chance exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up like he'd kiss her–she avoided that, far too used to his obnoxious hyperactivity to take it as offensive. "I love your eyes," he noted, studying them with his own sparkling ones. "They remind me of this guy I used to worship...my sun..."

"Moon," Jordan corrected easily.

Chance turned to smile at him honestly, then sniggered and looked to see if Xane had recomposed himself, or if he'd have to change places with Jor.

"Hey," Tro muttered to Xane.

Xane looked at him.

"They poke and prod at you a bit, get an x-ray of your chest and a quick ultra-sound of your belly...it'll make you damn tired when you start taking the drug so you'll need to stay around home, but it's not really that big a deal."

Quatre watched him process the information with interest.

"I heard people talking about it before," Xane noted, looking between the pair. "A guy saying it hurt like hell and that he'd sooner keep the wound than repeat it...another one saying that he puked from anxiety...that kind of thing."

"Well, you sit there waiting while they run the tests," Quatre noted. "Then the doctor comes in and talks with you about drug usage, if it's shown up at all...actually, I had it once and the guy told me I needed to eat more fruit."

Xane grinned at that, then sighed and leaned against Jordan as the male slid up beside him.

"First time is never so good, huh?" Jor offered. "First time is awkward and messy."

Xane started laughing weakly, raising his eyes to look properly at the man.

Jor grinned. "Second time's amazing and the third time's addicting."

"Or something," Quatre rolled his eyes.

Jordan laughed happily.

"You feeling okay?" Chai asked him, looking him over with interest.

"Not nearly so hung-over as you or Cat seem to be," he noted.

"Don't call me that," Quatre protested.

"Which what?" Xane asked, focusing on him curiously.

He got a level look for it.

Xane grinned, looking back to Chai.

She smiled in return, then scooted in as close to her husband as she could...before Chance shoved them all so Xane was actually pressed against the wall–it gave him almost enough room to sit down again.

The waitress moved to the table, then hesitated at the end to look the four adults over. "I can bring a chair, if you want..."

"Oh no, this is perfectly comfortable," Chance reassured her, shoving against Chai so the girl squawked and Xane groaned. "We're fine."

Wufei grinned happily up at the woman. "You can get me some more coffee, though."

She grinned at them, then filled his cup.


	8. 08

— 08 —

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 7am**

"Good morning," Jordan greeted the ten people waiting around the bench outside the office building. He set the bag of apples he was carrying on the wall behind the bench and gave them all curious looks.

"Good morning, Sir," was the general response with a salute attached, and one or two did it with gusto...

"Apple?" he offered.

That got him curious and confused looks before a small blond girl hesitantly offered a hand.

"They're fresh from the market just last night," Jordan informed her, grinning at her as he passed one over. "Straight from the bag on the stand to my cart, to my car, to my house."

She smiled at that, wiping the thing on her shirt as the others looked around to each other and hesitantly accepted.

"I count ten," he noted, looking them all over. He mentally associated the names on the list he'd gotten with the faces around him. "Anyone who's here who shouldn't be? No? Good. I call that attendance," he added to one of the guys who hadn't taken an apple. "You don't like apples?"

"They upset my stomach," the man explained, looking away.

"Aww, that's too bad," Jordan noted...and offered him a banana. He had a couple in his pockets, just in case.

The guy flashed him a grin and took it.

"I'm not some breakfast fanatic, really," he added, turning and starting for the building. "If you'll follow me, please..."

They separated into two lines to do it...

"That's scary," Jordan noted, considering them. "How many of you are just out of basic?"

Actually, he knew they were, but he wanted to get an idea of personality and get them over the notion that the rank 'lieutenant general' meant 'fear your god.'

He was a kindly god...he didn't require fear, just obedience...and intelligence.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 12pm**

Xane realized he couldn't walk anymore when he was near the end-hall area that the four pilots had called home before. He stood for a long moment, wondering if anyone would see him fall, then stumbled up toward the front door of the place, trying to hold himself erect.

He'd taken his first dose of Remalene about twenty minutes before and thought he'd walk over to Jor's before the tiredness set it. It'd been a good plan before...it _had_ been. He liked Chai, she was comforting to be around, and then when Jor was there it was that much better...but...

The soldier fell against the door, wondering if his shoulder would hurt him when he woke up or if the medication would heal that wound...and then he fell as the door moved.

"Mouthy?" Wufei asked in alarm, catching him.

Xane smiled slightly at the man, trying to keep his eyes open. "Hit sooner than...I thought..."

"Is he all right?" an unfamiliar voice asked, slightly alarmed.

"What's he on?" Morgan demanded.

"Remalene," Wufei noted, hoisting the guy onto his shoulder unceremoniously as he moaned in protest. "What are you doing _here?_"

"Was going...to Chai's," Xane explained, considering the sensation of the discomfort.

"And you took your dose when?"

"'bout...twenty," the guy returned. "Took me...five..."

Wufei snorted, grinning slightly at Calvin, who was blinking at him. "I'm gonna deliver this to Chai and let her deal with it," he noted to the pair. "It shouldn't take me but a few minutes."

"No car?" Morgan asked, grinning.

"He's not that heavy, but it looks a bit awkward," Wufei retorted. "I'm not some cave-man."

Xane started to laugh, even as he felt himself pulled even more into the tiredness.

"Hurry up," Morgan suggested. "And don't forget to call Maxwell."

"I might have wrinkled his shirt," Wufei agreed, moving out the door. "Jor might attack."

"What?" Calvin asked, mildly alarmed.

Morgan sniggered slightly and nodded at Wufei. When the door had closed he looked back to the empath. "About...a year ago, I suppose, Featihl there said some shit he shouldn't have to Yuy and got decked for it...but Yuy and Maxwell go head-to-head every six months or so...and that was about timed right for it...Jor and Yuy got into a serious brawl in the middle of the foyer at the Rest."

"The Rest?" the guy asked blankly.

"The mission?" the guy offered. "Bringing Christmas to Angels? We all just call it 'the Rest', so I don't know what it's really called."

That got him a grin.

"Anyway," Morgan looked back to his notebook and scribbled the note about Xane's interruption quickly. "What could you read off him? Featihl, I mean."

"He wasn't mentally tired," the guy returned, "but physically exhausted...felt kinda stupid, I think...it wasn't entirely clear...but he also thought it was funny."

Morgan nodded, starting to scribble that down.

"You know, some day we're gonna have a conversation where you meet my eyes the entire time," Cal noted, "and I'm gonna be all flustered and abashed because I'll have no idea how to handle it."

Morgan looked up at him quickly, then gave him a look.

The empath grinned.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 8pm**

"You, boy..."

Judas looked up to Brantley, not sure who was being addressed. Everyone in the group seemed to equate a boy in the man's eyes. He was startled to realize that it _was_ himself in question. "Yes?"

"Are you busy?" the man asked, studying him with interest.

"I can be, I suppose," Judas returned, shrugging.

"I seem to lack reliable men," the man noted in a mildly acerbic tone...it made most of the men around the leader flinch. "I'm willing to try anything once. I say again, are you busy?"

"I seem to have a beer that's not quite empty," Judas noted, considering his bottle.

Brantley wasn't disrespected very often, and the fact that Judas didn't seem to give a shit made him give the younger male a very long and level look.

Judas _wanted_ to react with guilt or embarrassment...or fear...but he just _couldn't_ manage it.

Brantley snorted...and tossed a small notebook at him. "It's eight pm now," he noted, looking to his watch. "By ten, I'll be in a bad mood. By eleven I'll be pissed. By the first minute of the new day, I'll be murderous. Cash only, no I.O.U.s."

Judas considered him a moment, then passed his beer off to Igor, who was blinking at the leader in confusion. The spy moved away from the table with the notebook in hand, considering the alteration of the alcohol in his system.

"Oi, boy," Brantley called before he could leave. "You're leaving _this_ mess with me?" he indicated the two foot-pads that Judas had been with.

"My name is Dedreck," Judas informed him. "Let's go," he added to the others.

Igor scampered after him as Orson's eyes flashed murderously. Orson was no fool, though. He wordlessly followed the others from the room.

"Make your own name," Orson spat at Judas as they stopped outside the building. "I'm not playing your puppy...but you better watch your damn back come dawn. If you fuck up, Brantley _will_ get rid of you, and if you make yourself a new shining star, his cronies will pull you aside in some back alley and you probably won't come out alive on the other side."

"Are you coming or not?" Judas demanded of Igor.

Igor considered him, then Orson–the other man was waiting. He rubbed his hands together, then moved after his long-time friend.

Orson raised his eyebrows very slightly at Judas–a calm acceptance that he'd won–looked Judas up and down...then turned and walked away.

Judas turned himself, opening the notebook to see a list of checked names. He flipped through it toward the end, wondering at the open stupidity of keeping a written record...then found a list of _ten_ names at the end.

He stared at them, then the numbers attached to them, and ran a hand down his face.

He wanted to get in with Brantley to get a leg up to Bauer. He'd known it'd take some fancy footwork and a bit of an effort...but this was outright annoying.

Judas started down the sidewalk, wondering how he was supposed to get hundreds or thousands of dollars from ten people in an hour. He had no doubt that's what Brantley had meant. He'd moved through his list in increments of full hours.

Well...at least he had something to report to Jor, either way. Succeeding and becoming that shining star Orson had mentioned would be the leg up he'd needed; failing and pissing off Brantley would lead to a test of Jor's resources.

Either way he looked at it...he was in for one _damn_ long night.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 2pm**

Jordan moved back into his house tiredly, wondering if he'd be able to turn off like he wanted to.

"Jor?" Chai called from the kitchen, moving into the hall to smile at him.

"Hi, Baby...Xane?" Jordan blinked at the male on the couch...who was _very_ much asleep.

"You know, I'm standing right here," Chai teased.

Jordan snorted, moving up to kiss her. "What's going on? Why's he here?"

"I haven't been able to get that out of him," she noted, starting to unbutton his jacket. "Wufei showed up an hour or two ago with him, said that he'd been about to pass out at his place...didn't he call you?"

Jordan wondered about that as he dug out his phone, flipping it open.

Two missed calls. Damn...

"Wufei...and...Wufei...that's good, I'm expecting a call from Raul and really shouldn't have this turned off."

"You're like...one of the highest authorities on the planet," Chai reminded him, flicking his rank tag. "You can _have_ your phone on...I promise."

Jor gave her an amused look, then hit the five.

"Hey, I didn't do it," Wufei noted pleasantly.

"Like I've ever outright attacked you," Jordan retorted, kissing his wife again and moving toward his bedroom. "I was talking to my new recruits, sorry I missed your calls."

"No big," Wufei reassured him. "He'd taken his first dose of Remalene at...eleven forty-five or something...was walking over to your place. He didn't tell me why, something about Chai...but by the time he got here he was about to fall over."

"Wonderful...did you see him go down or something?" Jordan hung his jacket on it's hanger and back in the closet. He hit the speakerphone button on the phone and set it on the end of his bed as he started to undo his belt.

"No...he came up to the door...I heard a thud and opened it...caught him. He could make four-word sentences, but they were shaky."

Jor snorted, toeing off his shoes. He hated wearing the dress-shoes, but he wanted to break them in before he had to do some conference or something.

"I took him over to your place and left him with your wife. When I left, he was curled against the edge of the couch, trying to keep his eyes open."

"He's on it, now," Jor muttered, pulling off the slacks and tossing them toward the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Wufei asked blankly.

"I just got back from the recruits. I'm getting out of my uniform."

"You need some help or something?" the Chinese man demanded. "You don't sound capable."

"Fuck you," Jordan returned through a laugh, digging out jeans and dropping onto the mattress. "How was your day?"

"I've been talking more with Calvin. He's getting a couple of his friends right now. Morgan's being a good bitch and mixing up some dip or something...one of those woman-y domestic things."

Jordan laughed more as he heard Morgan very clearly in the background.

Wufei snickered. "Anyway, I think your boy should be waking up soon...how did it go? Any gems? You got Mouthy the first day, didn't you?"

"Yeah, fine...one or two...and yes, in that order," Jordan returned.

"You had to do that, didn't you?" Wufei asked dryly.

"Of course I did," Jordan started unbuttoning the dress-shirt. "You coming over for supper tonight?"

"Depends on what happens here. You're gonna have to help me, you know. I'm not entirely sure what tests we should try."

"Aren't you supposed to have the game-plan worked up _before_ the game?" Jordan asked blankly as he heard a knock on the door over the line.

"Shit," Wufei sounded amused, "fuck no, are you kidding me?"

...and the line went dead.

Jordan laughed, turning off the speaker phone and closing the thing before pulling off his socks and stretching his toes–the shoes were too damn hot. He needed to figure out a way to aerate them without losing the visual of shiny-perfection...and it probably wouldn't hurt to look up other tests on the laptop.

"You hungry?" Chai asked, looking into the room curiously.

"Not really," Jordan returned, running his hands through his hair before pulling socks on. "How was your day?"

"I cleaned up the kitchen, since you and Quatre seem unable to...and I looked at the bills, which is the first step to getting them paid..."

"I'll set that up to go automatically," Jor mused, sliding off the bed and pocketing his phone. "There's no way in hell I'd ever remember on time. It's the cars, right?"

"And the phones," she agreed, heading back into the kitchen. "...and that movie thing you started."

"We can probably drop that," he noted. "It seems like such a good idea when I have a vacation..."

She laughed a bit. "Actually, I use it."

"Oh...all right," he moved after her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against the side of her face with a happy sigh. "You have no idea how much I love coming home to you." He kissed below her ear lightly, smiling at her. "I love you."

She turned to kiss him properly, then rested her head against his shoulder.

"There's one kid...completely eager," he muttered. "He's got that spark, you know? He wants to please. Once he relaxes he should be fun."

"You're replacing Mouthy?" she asked with wide innocent eyes as she pulled back to look at him.

He gave her a look, which made her giggle, resting against him again.

"What?" Xane asked, leaning against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, trying to focus on Jordan.

"I found a new lover," Jordan explained.

Xane groaned and moved to sit at the breakfast bar, pillowing his head on his arms. "I can't play right now, Jor..."

Jordan laughed a bit, leaning against the counter. "There's a new kid in the group that has some serious promise," he explained. "Once he realizes that I won't have one of you throw him down a well, he should be somewhat like you. You two will either _love_ each other or despise each other."

"Well?" Xane asked, raising his eyes to blink at his superior. "What?"

"Well what?" Jordan repeated, thinking about it.

"No, _well_," Chai...clarified.

Jordan blinked at her.

She started laughing.

"Why would you have someone throw him down a well?" Xane asked, pressing his eyes back against his arm.

"Oh..." Jor smirked a bit. "Chaac, the Mayan god of rain, lightning, and water...he required human sacrifice. They'd either gut their victims or tie them up and throw them down a sacred well."

Xane snorted.

"You don't look ready to be awake," Jor noted. "Why don't you go lay back down?"

"I heard you," the guy explained.

"Mm...go back to sleep," Jor ordered gently, moving away from his wife to pull the guy by the arm.

Xane only offered slight resistance, yawning largely as he followed his superior back into the main room...then stopped short of the couch.

"What?" Jor asked blankly as Chai moved from their bedroom with a slightly naughty grin and a pillow.

"I don't wanna...take up the couch," Xane noted, studying the thing before focusing on the strip of carpet under the window.

"You wanna get the...thing?" Jor asked his wife, taking..._his_ pillow...from her.

She flashed him the naughty grin again and disappeared into the garage.

"No," Xane protested. "It's not..."

"Here," Jor shoved the pillow against the guy's chest.

Xane settled, snuggling the thing slightly.

Chai bounced back into the living area with the cushion. It was a long and narrow mattress that they used when they had too many people sleeping over. She'd grabbed one of the sheets for it while she was at it, and had the top of that tucked around the thing as she dropped it under the window. It took her about two seconds to have it properly covered, and she turned to pick up the blanket she'd covered the soldier with earlier in the day.

"Why are you always so happy to have people mooching off you?" Xane asked her blankly.

"Because I spent a long time alone," she noted, smiling slightly at him. "Lay down."

"But..."

"No one wanted to be around me when I was with Traumer," she said. "And back then I wasn't entirely sure _when_ my next meal would be...I don't have to be afraid anymore. Lay down."

Xane frowned at her, but complied, moving the pillow around before sighing. Chai dropped the blanket over him, then turned to her husband.

He smiled at her, then gestured for her to follow him back into the kitchen.

- -

E/N: Sorry about the delay. Thanksgiving and Black Friday, you know? lol. Thanks for the reviews, guys. Hope everyone's enjoying the story so far.


	9. 09

— 09 —

**October 18, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 9:30pm**

Judas moved tiredly into the building Brantley was waiting in, wondering how long it would take for his knuckles to stop hurting. He had his leather jacket zipped up at the bottom, too. It wasn't a look he was into or any sort of fashion statement, though. He'd gotten blood on his white shirt, and that sort of thing drew more attention that a fashion over-sight.

Brantley looked up at him and blinked, then looked very levelly to his watch.

Judas tossed the pile of money at him, then the little notebook and crossed his arms.

The leader stared at that, studying him over and indicating his jacket.

Judas unzipped it, pulling it open to show the blood, then went back to massaging his knuckles.

The man made a count of the money, then did so again. After a moment, he flipped the small notebook open and stared at it.

Yes, Judas had gotten all the money…but not because he hunted each man down one by one. Most of them…all but two, had been at a bar playing poker in a back room. Judas had read down the list pointedly, then looked to them all. He'd had confirmation of the names beforehand, so he knew they were his lot. All but three had simply given up the money. One of the three who hadn't conceded had stood up and told him to get away with much threatening and posturing, but Judas hadn't been impressed…and had pistol-whipped him. He'd followed it up with a punch to the gut and suggested he comply before something really bad had happened. One of the two remainders of the room had folded instantly, and the other had been a moment later. Within about five minutes and five bruises, the man he'd been arguing with had given in as well.

The first of the remaining two had complied grudgingly, but the second had required a bit more…hands-on…approach. If he'd have complied, it would have meant Jude was back at about nine-o-five, but since he hadn't, it'd taken a while longer.

"You're lying to me," Brantley noted.

"The first eight were playing poker at the King's Inn," Judas shrugged. "The other two were at their houses."

"And they just _gave_ you the money?" Brantley snapped.

"Not quite," Judas rubbed at his knuckles more, pulling off his jacket to show the blood spatters more clearly. "A few of them were irritating." He dropped next to the man and grabbed an un-open beer from the center of the table.

Brantley counted the bills again in disbelief, then looked up to Judas with a sort of respect as his other cronies glared.

Judas sighed and stood again, toasting the man. "Thanks for the beer."

"Dedreck, you said?"

"Dedreck Keller," Judas agreed, starting for the door. "Have a good night."

"I don't believe I have your phone number, Dedreck," the man protested. "I have a pen here," he added, pulling out a sheet of paper from the notebook and offering a pen with it.

Judas moved back to him and scribbled the numbers down in a messier hand than his usually was. He scribbled Dedreck underneath that and slid the paper and pen back to the leader…then started for the door.

"Oi, Dead," the man called quickly.

Judas turned to look at him.

"For your trouble," the man explained…and tossed a sizable chunk from the pile at him.

Judas smirked slightly, pocketing the bills. "No trouble at all."

Brantley grinned at him, and he left the building.

He couldn't wait to get into the scrambler zone by his apartment. He _really_ needed to report to Maxwell.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 2:45pm**

"Are you _shittin'_ me?" Jordan demanded in disbelief as he stood outside his car. "You _can't_ be serious."

"Dead serious," Judas returned happily. "He tossed me a notebook with a list of names and numbers…it took me a bit of doing, but they were all people in or close to the group. I got a couple of them at a poker game and a couple of them off on their own. Took me an hour and a half. He thought I was lying to him at first, but got over that and gave me…a thousand…for my trouble."

"Damn," Jor muttered.

"Also," Judas said quickly, "he wanted my cell. He even started calling me by name instead of 'boy.' Actually, he shortened it to Dead…which is a bit disturbing, though it doesn't come across that way."

"So your German is good, I take it?"

"Decent anyway…I haven't come across a word I don't know yet."

Jordan sniggered slightly.

"I'm just getting to the apartment," Judas added. "I wanted to check in with you and get you to put the resources on alert. I made myself a shining star tonight and that sort of thing doesn't go over well with the old cronies."

"He should read more," Jordan mused. "He'd realize that the guy that comes in out of no where and does everything wonderfully the first time through is a double agent."

Judas snorted. "He won't have to worry about that. I'm using him to get to Bauer…and I'll use Bauer to get to Holt."

"You're still sure that Holt's from the Chile shit, then?" Jor asked. "Nothing's changed that yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm paying attention so it should be fine. I'm gonna go crash. I think tomorrow's going to suck."

"All right. Take care of yourself…and don't skip anymore check-in dates."

"Sorry," Judas apologized. "I didn't mean to to begin with."

"I know…I'll see you later."

"Yeah, bye," Judas agreed…and the line went dead.

Jordan closed his phone and slid into the car properly.

He was headed for the Rest. He wasn't looking forward to the papers he'd have to read through in an hour's time, but at least he wasn't behind anymore.

He shook his head, and backed from the driveway.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 5pm**

"That's the last of it?" Wufei asked, turning to survey Chance's bedroom somewhat nervously.

"Should be, if not I can get it later," Chance agreed, moving through the front door of the house with a box in his arms.

Wufei hesitated a bit more, looking around the place.

He thought it was strange that over the course of four days, Chance had moved _out_…entirely. He hadn't really been home over the weekend, but he rarely ever _was_. The fact that it was Monday, and he'd only be coming back to the house for visits was upsetting Wufei.

The Chinese man hadn't realized he'd have _that_ big an issue with the notion.

Chance being gone Fridays and Saturday nights had been a consistent thing since he and Shin had gotten together…since Jordan had come back. He'd been home Friday night, which had been weird, but they'd had that meeting on Saturday with the ambassador…Saturday night, Chance had stayed with Shin…and he'd been home Sunday night, sure…but he wasn't going to be "home" anymore.

"All right," Chance muttered, moving back into the house and considering as he flicked his keychain around. It wasn't a good-bye…but it was at the same time. This time, when he left the house, he would no longer _live_ in it.

"All…right," Wufei agreed, frowning slightly at the other.

"We're going furniture shopping," Chance noted, looking to Trowa, who was sitting on the arm of the couch with a similar upset expression. "I'll be back…tonight," he hesitated again, then shrugged. "Dinner at Chai's right?"

Wufei nodded.

Chance hesitated again, then flashed a grin at the pair…and moved from the house. He'd lived there about nine years. He hadn't really been _ready_ to leave the place. He wasn't disgusted with his roommates or anything…so leaving like that seemed odd.

He shook his head as he climbed into his rig, sitting there a moment before backing carefully out into the road.

He was really…moving.

He was really getting married.

The wedding hadn't ever seemed _not_ real, but driving away from the place he'd called home for nine years settled it into his system that his life was about to change entirely.

Was he ready for that?

That question was a bit redundant at this point. Unless he _really_ fucked up, Shin wasn't going to leave him, and even if she did, what about Chip? He'd hit the point of no return, and that lack of escape sent off warning signals in his brain…but none that he was really considering.

It was strange…how had Jordan done it? He'd gone from single to girlfriend to marriage in about six months time…or had that been it? Everything with he and Chai had gone very quickly…did that really _count_ as quickly? He'd been in Angels for five years with her.

Maybe that had given him time to decide he really _was_ ready to be married to her…but Chance himself was ready to be married to Shin, right? He'd been dying inside when she wouldn't accept him. He'd been shriveling up. All he'd wanted was her and she hadn't wanted him. She wanted him now…and he sure as _hell_ wasn't giving her up…not now. Not when they were so happy together…

So that was it. Sure, it was scary…it was a big step…but he _wanted_ to take it…and that was all that really mattered, right?

He grinned slightly to himself…and headed for home.

- -

**October 19, A.C. 204. Imperia, Italy. 7am**

Riley rubbed tiredly at her eyes as she finished typing up her report. She hated having to type up information in an encoded file, though. It meant that she'd have no further access to it, because once she hit save, it was flying away to Jordan without stopping on her own hard-drive.

All of her information hinted strongly toward a man in Switzerland named Holt. He seemed to be the man in charge of most of the area's activity…at least between Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Austria.

Of course, whether or not that was the man Danielle was buying her arms from was still up in the air. The guy dealing with Danielle was equivalent to the hook of a fishing pole. The line went up from the hook to the pole. The hook and reel did most of the work, but without the pole, there'd be nothing to work from.

She was…tired…damn tired, if she was comparing organized crime to a fishing pole…

She smiled slightly to herself and typed that into her message as well. Jordan would appreciate the visual…and hit save. If the report hadn't been due, she wouldn't have gotten out of bed for another hour.

Maybe he'd call her back to base for a bit…let her recharge. She needed to do her visual soon, maybe she could ask him then. She wasn't lonely, per se, but she was ready to not have to pretend anymore. He was supposed to be training new recruits anyway…wouldn't it make sense for them to meet the newbies?

Riley backed out of the program and switched her laptop back into normal mode. She studied it a moment before closing the lid and grabbed her cup of coffee, looking out to the early morning street…not many people were moving around, but it wasn't a business road. Basically, there was nothing to see.

The woman stretched slightly, wondering how Judas and Raul were faring…Mouthy. That was one thing she did _not_ appreciate. She wanted to know all of their status.

She shook her head slightly, then moved to set her coffee cup back on the counter…then headed back for her bedroom.

She wasn't ready to be awake yet.

- -

**October 18, A.C. 204. Base. 10pm**

Jordan heard his laptop chirp, and moved instantly to accept the encoded message. He typed in his first key-code quickly, waiting the required amount of time before typing in the second line of it. It took only moments for the file to open on his screen, and as he read the title Riley had given it: 'A Comparison of Organized Crime to Fishing Poles', he realized how much he _missed_ his team.

"What?" Quatre asked curiously, moving to the kitchen door.

"Riley's report," Jordan returned, pointing at the screen.

"Oh," Quatre grinned slightly at him and moved to stand next to the man.

"This is special class," Jor noted half-heartedly, shifting aside so his friend could read it as well. "Don't read it."

"I'll just look at it," Quatre reassured him.

Jordan snorted, paging down some.

"Hey, I don't read that fast," Quatre protested.

"You don't know the full details, either," Jordan retorted.

"Fishing poles?" the blond asked blankly, looking up to the guy.

"She hasn't explained yet," Jordan returned, resting a fingernail against the screen to help his focus.

"Okay _fine_," Quatre muttered, rolling his eyes happily as he moved back toward the living room. "I'll leave you to your porn."

As it was intended to, the word made Jordan stop and look up.

Quatre flashed him a naughty grin…and moved from the kitchen.

The brunette snorted slightly…and refocused on his work.

- -

**October 19, A.C. 204. Base. 9am**

"Good morning," Morris said happily to Shin and Zachary as the pair moved into the examination room. "How are you?"

"Good morning," Shin returned nervously, offering her hand. "I'm Shinyue Huang. This is my son Zachary."

"Hi," Zach said, studying the man curiously as they shook.

"I'm Dr. Morris," Morris noted, smiling at the pair of them as he gestured for the boy to follow him. "Wow, you're big," he added to the four year old. "I thought you'd be a little boy, not a big boy."

Chip smiled at that, pleased, then started to climb up onto the examination table.

"So, you're my new patient, huh?" Morris added to the boy, pulling his stethoscope out and showing it to him. "Do you know what this is for?"

"You hear my lungs with it?" the kid asked curiously.

"Or heart," Morris agreed approving. "How did you get so smart? Does your Mom feed you smart pills?"

Chip giggled at that. "My dad!"

"Your dad doesn't have smart pills," Morris protested in amusement. "He's too silly."

That made the child laugh even more, a slightly naughty sound that actually sounded somewhat like Yuy's laugh.

"He just _is_ smart," Shin informed the doctor with a smile. "We don't have to give him pills for that."

"Ooh, even better," Morris noted as the boy beamed even more…then started giggling again since Morris had started listening to his leg.

Shin rolled her eyes very slightly, though she was seriously relieved that the man was getting on so well with her child.

"It doesn't seem to be working," Morris noted, pulling the thing away to study it a moment with a frown, then put it on the kid's forehead.

"No!" Chip laughed delightedly, catching his wrist. "Right _here_!" He directed the thing to his chest, still giggling.

Morris jumped, like he was startled. "Wow…I can hear…I can hear…_stuff_."

"Stuff?" the child echoed, his eyes curious.

Morris nodded, listening to his lungs a moment. "All sorts of stuff," he added, focusing on the heartbeat.

"Like what?" Zach asked.

"Well, here, let me show you," the man muttered, pulling a second stethoscope from under his jacket and offered it over. It only took the boy a moment to work it out, and he moved the thing so the child could hear his own heartbeat.

"Whoa…" Chip breathed. "Is that my _heart?_"

"You're just _too_ smart," Morris agreed.

"Mom!" the kid squeaked loudly, looking to her. "I can hear my heart!"

"Wow," she muttered. "That's cool."

Morris indicated her with a slight jerk of his head and the boy smiled more, pulling the thing off and offering it to her…he looked almost breathless as he waited for her to hear the interesting thing, too…

That was a Yuy look, too.

He pulled off his stethoscope as he studied the boy a little closer. He was obviously of more Asian descent than just his mother accounted for…and he had a rather similar bone structure to Yuy before the man had matured.

"So," Morris muttered, turning to gather a few more instruments. "I'm going to need to give him a few shots," he noted to Shin. He thought a moment, then met her eyes. "Do you know who his father is?" he asked her in Cantonese.

She blinked at him, then shook her head slightly.

"All right," he added. "And he calls Yuy dad?"

She nodded. "I met him when I was two months or so along, and he helped me as much as he could. He…paid for the birth, actually."

"He saw him born, then?" Morris smiled slightly as he moved back to the child.

"Looked white as a sheet," she agreed, biting her lip slightly as she realized again how wrongly she'd treated him all that time. He'd been trying as hard as he could with everything he knew to be there for her…

"The nurses _made_ me sit in a chair when my first was being born," Morris noted in amusement, thinking back to it. "I suppose I looked a little tottery or something."

Shin smiled at that.

The check-up continued in that general vein as the doctor went about his work, and then it got to the point of the shots.

"I'm going to give you some shots and take a little bit of your blood," Morris noted seriously to the boy. "Is that okay?"

"What for?" the kid asked quietly, his eyes looking nervous.

"Well, to make sure you don't get sick with some stuff. A little cold or a cough is okay, but there are other things that these shots will keep you from getting."

"Oh," the boy fidgeted slightly. "Will it hurt?"

"It might sting a little," the man noted. "But it shouldn't be any worse than that."

The kid took a long bracing sort of breath, then nodded. "Okay."

"You're brave, too?" Morris muttered, turning to gather the things. "Your father must be proud. Can you stand up and face your Mom?"

Zach did so as Morris lowered his jeans and gestured for Shin to have him sit again since she'd taken his hands. He swabbed the spot on his leg quickly as the boy looked almost ready to cry.

"Now," Morris added quickly, meeting his eyes. "You're a smart boy and maybe you can help me…right here," he flicked on a projector. "Can you find me the ducky in that picture? I haven't been able to see it yet."

"A ducky?" Chip asked blankly.

"Yeah, a little yellow one," he agreed, readying the needle and looking to Shin.

She nodded very slightly.

"Is it little?" Chip asked, blinking. His leg flinched very slightly as the needle moved into it, but he was focused on the screen.

"It's medium-sized," Morris agreed, pressing cotton to the little wound and looking to the picture scramble himself. "I know it _has_ to be there somewhere…"

- -

**October 19, A.C. 204. Imperia, Italy. 7pm**

Danielle snuggled into her fur coat a little more watching the men loading the haul of weapons she'd bought. They were heading directly back to Inado, and she couldn't _wait_ to get home.

"I hope you had a wonderful time visiting us in Italy," Antonio gushed at her.

"I love Italy," she agreed distantly, still watching the men. "It's gorgeous, even when it's overcast."

He cooed about that and how beautiful she was. It was the sort of 'you're leaving finally!' gushing, though. She'd annoyed him repeatedly, but he wanted her to leave with good feelings about him, and flattery worked or something.

Too bad he didn't know that she was taking the arms directly to a government facility so they could be identified and possibly tracked. Too bad he didn't realize the men loading the weapons were soldiers undercover…too bad she couldn't get rid of this issue before she left the country.

She focused on the man, who smiled at her.

"Your assistance has been valuable," she praised him. "I'll be certain to come to you for any future needs."

"That's music to my ears," he returned, smiling more at her.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, then moved down the stairs to her waiting car. The last of her weaponry was loaded into her truck as she slid into the back seat and waved up at the man who'd assisted her. The driver closed the door behind her, and she wondered if the fifties look she'd been going for had been pulled off. She knew it didn't really matter, but she liked that in that particular role she could play dress up…and get away with it.

The car started moving.

She sighed slightly in her relief, wondering if Riley was on her plane or not.

She didn't care if it was ten in the morning back in California and the jet lag would put her on her ass for a day.

She was _ready_ to go home.

- -

**October 20, A.C. 204. Khon Kaen, Thailand. 9am**

Raul sighed slightly as he dropped onto the couch and pulled out his laptop. He hated not knowing what the rest of his teammates were doing. Jordan had pushed them hard in trust games before his marriage. They'd seriously gone out and _messed_ with people in lower Angels to the point that they could have gotten killed. They'd only had each other to get out of the situations that Jordan would suddenly spring on them, and after several nights of running to fox holes, he'd seriously bonded with the rest. They'd had to sneak out for food and at one point Xane had actually snuck up on Jordan.

Really, Jordan had been who they were trying to get away from. If they saw him, they'd have someone tailing them in an instant…and it hadn't been a game to those people. Riley had gotten shot and the hospital had been guarded by some men. They couldn't go back to base, or really get _out_ of Angels, so they'd had to figure out how to heal her damn quick in hell.

Of course, when they couldn't more then stem the bleeding, Mouthy had called the man. Mario Allul from Yuy's team, and a few of his men had met with Mouthy away from their hiding spot and taken Riley into base.

That time had been…scary. They'd had to talk to people and figure out _who_ they needed to find to get out. It had been the parameters of the game. Jordan had tucked a sheet of paper into Xane's pocket before the thing had started, and the paper had noted that they needed out of Angels, but they had to find someone to _get_ them out. Jordan had been working the other end of the issue, and had said specific key things to people about who they shouldn't say anything to…moments where Mouthy was able to fast-talk them out of a situation and get the information, and the guy had shown up the next night with a black eye and swollen lip. Bits where Danielle started talking to a man who eventually told her that this guy had been saying not to tell these three guys anything, and they looked like the three she was with so she might be careful…with a roundabout comment about Jonathon Breer in the middle of it.

In the end, they'd gone to Jon and he'd taken them out of Angels and to the gates of the base without hesitation while they waited for shots to be fired or something similarly dramatic. When Jordan had sauntered from the gatehouse to lean against the guard-arm and look at them, they'd all moved up to him hesitantly…and had been praised. Riley could have returned to them while they were out, but he hadn't intended anyone to _actually_ get hurt, so she'd earned time off…

They'd relied heavily on each other during those games…that first one had been terrifying, though. They could all slide into Angels at any given point, and they'd started to realize the depth of the place as they went.

At any rate, Raul knew that Judas was okay on his own…there had also been tests of them getting run off from each other…but the rest sort of liked to be in at least pairs. Even if he hadn't been able to hang out with Judas, being able to see him from time to time had given the whole task the game feeling–he liked the games now. They were wit and laughter…but this real shit was far from funny.

Not to mention he couldn't get the knack of Taiwanese.

He clicked the file open he'd been staring at while he thought, waiting for it to pop up the cue for his password.

He didn't have a vid port in his apartment, but the laptop had the capability.

It was time to _see_ Jordan.

- -

E/N: Okay, so I got a review on a different site saying the story was confusing without enough characters from actual Gundam Wing, and the way of that one suggested that the person hadn't _read_ In the City at Night, which this story is the sequel to. Also, I don't have use for most of the characters from Gundam Wing because they're all off doing their own little things with their own little lives. The main point of this story is the arms ring out of Chile making trouble. So now I want to ask if this story is seriously confusing or what? I do appreciate reviews, even when they bug me, lol, so feel free to respond or email me at: I suppose I should note that I know my characters aren't copied and pasted out of the series, but that's the lovely thing about five or more years passing. People change from their teenage years into their early twenties. That's the time period that usually gives you the serious base for the rest of your life. I apologize to anyone who finds my little rant here annoying, that's not my aim, I hope everyone is enjoying this because I'm having fun writing it. Anyway, email me with questions or comments.


	10. 10

— 10 —

**October 22, A.C. 204. Base. 7pm**

"Hey, Calvin," Wufei greeted the empath, smiling happily at him…as he led two men into the testing area. He'd brought one man back previously, but only once. Wufei gave them curious looks, knowing his pleasure was obvious to them and realizing it didn't matter.

"Hey, Wufei," Calvin returned, moving to one side so the guys could follow. "These are Clinton Anjer and Mikel Jamison."

"Hello," Wufei offered his hand. "I'm Chang Wufei…Wufei Chang," he laughed. "Call me Chang…or Wufei…it doesn't matter. This is my associate, Morgan Robert."

"Hi," Morgan said, smiling as he stood and offered his hand.

"I'm not too fond of the idea of being poked and prodded," the one named Mikel noted in a serious sort of voice.

Wufei gave him an uncertain look, glancing sidelong at Calvin for the feedback Quatre supplied thoughtlessly. Calvin was _not_ Quatre, however, and just gave him a happy little smile of a look.

Clinton sniggered.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Wufei noted pointedly to him.

Clinton raised his eyebrows. "Really? Because I got the impression you were just kinda drifting along."

"I drift with style?"

The guy laughed at that as Mikel grinned.

"What kind of poking and prodding do you mean?" Wufei asked somewhat nervously. He hadn't actually said they'd _do_ testing to Cal. He'd suggested it might be something for later, but…

"Needles?" the guy returned, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…we got some friends who're willing to look into DNA," Wufei muttered, looking around to Morgan. "But…"

"You got someone to do it?" Calvin asked curiously, moving around to sit on the table. "Who?"

"Our doctor," Wufei explained. "The…pilots…former, pilots. Our doctor wanted to do some tests on Yuy and while I was there with him I told him what I was doing…he said he'd be willing to help a couple nights a week. He said he'd do three people at a time."

"So you want us to give you DNA samples?" Mikel asked, looking intrigued.

"Well, this is entirely voluntary on your part…but it would help. I mean, if you don't want to do it…we have Winner and Marks to offer, and then we were going to put some in so we can tell if there really _is_ a difference along those lines."

"I think he's more than floating," Calvin noted to his friends. "He's never run his own tests before or anything, but he does know how to get things done."

"Have you guys established anything?" Clint asked, moving around Wufei in a wide arc to sit nearer Morgan.

"Mor's gonna give himself carpel-tunnel from writing so much," Calvin returned promptly.

"What was that?" Morgan asked, pointing at the guy and ignoring the other.

"Huh?" Clint gave him a confused look.

"You just skirted Fei," Morgan jerked his head at him.

"I told you he was bright," Calvin retorted. "It appeals to some and puts others off. That's why Winner didn't keep him," he indicated his friend. "He can't stand the bright ones…hurts his eyes or something."

"I'm…sorry," Wufei focused on his emotions instantly, trying to rein them in.

"Aww, he dimmed," Calvin frowned at that, looking accusingly at the other.

"Intense emotions suck you in," Clint shrugged, then blinked as Morgan started writing.

"No, keep going," Calvin corrected the action. "He'll probably be able to recite you word for word in a week."

Morgan gave him an amused look.

Calvin smiled innocently at him. "I got you more volunteers."

Morgan smiled at that.

"I'm not…bright…anymore, am I?" Wufei asked Mikel.

"You have an inner spark anyway," Mikel shrugged, moving around to sit on the other side of Wufei.

"Um…when people are intense like that," Clint pointed at Wufei, "you get pulled in…sorta like the moon, you know?" he gestured toward the sky. "It orbits but stays…if you get pulled in, you're _stuck_ there until something gives."

"And the give is painful," Morgan surmised.

Clint nodded.

"Are you up there with Marks and Winner?" the man asked seriously.

"We're different, but the same," Clint shrugged.

"Why does it vary?" Wufei muttered to Morgan.

"It just does," Clint noted in amusement. "Tall isn't a specific height, is it? Or short? Fat is variable, too…"

"No, it's…for research," Wufei muttered, looking to him. "You make a good point, though."

"But what even got it to build up," Morgan said quietly, looking away. "They'll never know in our life-time."

"But if we can just _help_," Wufei said sincerely. "I don't need to know it _all_…I just need to know that Cat can walk down the street without being bombarded from all sides…that Paris can sit in a group and not know what they all feel…shit, Mor, you've _seen_ Quatre puke…"

Clinton scooted his chair back from Wufei as Calvin smiled and looked away. Mikel was studying the Chinese man with a very intent interest.

"We should hook him up with Chai," Morgan noted quietly.

"_What?_" Calvin demanded in amusement. "Jordan's wife?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Wufei noted, looking down.

"But it would help him. Calm down, Fei, you're making him uncomfortable."

Wufei focused instantly, controlling his emotions.

"So," Mikel muttered, shifting forward to catch Wufei's eyes. "Do you need hair or something? What do we do for the DNA stuff?"

Wufei turned to blink at him.

"I'm on board…just don't poke and prod me too much."

Wufei blinked more at him.

"I told you," Calvin noted to Clint. "What did I tell you?"

"You told _me_ there'd be Amber," Mikel noted pointedly.

"Oh, did I?" Calvin gave him a very wide-eyed innocent look, as if that were news to him entirely.

Mikel grinned in return, then looked back to Wufei. "The new kids are cute enough, but they just don't have what it takes…"

"Hey!"

- -

**October 23, A.C. 204.Base. 9am**

"Wow," Wufei muttered as he stumbled into the kitchen tiredly.

"What happened to you?" Trowa asked, blinking at his friend's bloodshot eyes. "I thought you were with your empath last night."

"I was…we broke into some Amber after a while…damn…" he dropped into a chair and rubbed at his face.

"So…why are you awake at nine on a Saturday morning?" Trowa asked curiously.

"We have…the ambassador," Wufei returned, looking up at him blankly.

"Oh, shit," Trowa sat up as he remembered. "I forgot about that entirely."

"Yeah," Wufei muttered wryly, dropping his head down on the table. "Can I call in sick?"

"I can break your leg," Tro offered helpfully. "Then they'd have to take you through intensive and Morris is _bound_ to have some Bloody Mary powder."

Wufei started laughing weakly.

"How about an arm? If I cut it off, they might be able to reattach it," he started for the cupboards.

Wufei laughed more, then groaned as his head throbbed.

"Here," Trowa added, laughing himself as he tossed the Bloody Mary packet at his friend. "I picked a box up," he added, running the water of the tap and gathering a glass. "How did you manage to get hung-over?"

"We topped off the flat," Wufei returned. "Cal brought a couple friends and after we'd reassured ourselves that we were crazy for trying to start this, we offered a toast to the coming headaches and frustration. They only had one each, but me and Mor…"

"Wow," Trowa set the glass beside the guy with a spoon. "Just…wow."

Wufei laughed, emptying the packet into the cup. "I hate this stuff."

"So which would you prefer?" Trowa asked, leaning against the counter to study him. "Not drinking that concoction or the hangover?"

Wufei considered that.

"…it wasn't a trick question," Trowa noted in amusement. "It was more redundant."

Wufei gave him a look, then mixed the stuff together.

"I suggest you head toward the bathroom," Trowa noted as the guy stood and took a steadying breath. "You're gonna puke, I can already tell it."

Wufei groaned at him in protest…but it came out more like a whimper…and he downed half the glass.

Trowa stepped forward and snatched the glass from the guy's hand in that moment before the mixture took affect. Wufei had enough time to take a couple breaths…before he darted for the bathroom. Tro set the glass back on the table, then went about making his own breakfast.

He'd had a wonderful night's sleep.

- -

**October 23, A.C. 204.Base. 10am**

The ambassador of Tanzania was a sober faced man who listened more than he talked. He didn't interrupt as Chance explained the problem the Mozambique ambassador had brought to their attention the previous weekend, he simply nodded to note he _was_ listening.

"So if we do go to assist," Chance summed up, "we'd like to be sure your government understands that we have no dour plans in the mix."

"My government will understand, I'm sure," the man reassured him, studying him. "But the governments of the surrounding countries may not be so inclined."

"That's true," Chance agreed, "but we'll try to forewarn any surrounding government of our plan before it's put into action. Considering that the clash is along the border, we wanted to be sure to let you know what the actual intent was."

"I do appreciate that," the man noted, nodding again. "I will call my government right away and get back to you with their official response."

"I would appreciate that," Chance muttered, extending a hand. "I'm sorry to call you here on a Saturday."

The man smiled at him. "When I first came here, I was dismayed that nothing happened on the weekends. This hardly bothers me at all."

Chance grinned at that.

"Have a wonderful day," the man muttered, moving to shake hands with Jordan, then Quatre. He doubled back and shook Wufei's hand, then Trowa's…before leaving the room as quietly as he had entered.

"He understands," Quatre supplied. "He's not so sure his government will, though."

The group exchanged a look.

"He's moving on this now, because if he puts it off they might try to accuse him of hiding information from them. He doesn't like who's in charge of the country right now, but there's not much he can do about it since he wasn't there to vote."

"Wonderful," Jordan noted dryly.

"Mmhm," Quatre agreed, looking to the ceiling. "So tomorrow we'll probably get his response…but I don't suggest you hold your breath."

"Thank you for your chipper optimism," Chance noted dryly, snatching up his papers. "Let's go."

Quatre grinned, and wordlessly moved to follow.


	11. 11

— 11 —

**October 24, A.C. 204.Base. 11am**

"Wufei!"

Wufei half-groaned to himself as he stopped outside the canteen, looking skyward in resignation before turning to Danielle. He'd managed to avoid her the four days she'd been back from Italy. He'd been hoping he could keep it that way.

"Wufei!" Danielle repeated, closer this time.

Wufei turned to look at her.

She stopped just shy of him, studying his eyes…she opened her mouth like she'd speak…but changed her mind and stepped back, looking away.

"Hi, Danielle," he muttered quietly.

"I hear your empath idea is catching on," she said quietly.

He nodded slightly.

She looked back to him again and smiled a sad smile, then turned and walked away.

Wufei blinked after her, leaning against the wall behind himself as he looked to the sky again.

"Do you _need_ me to say anything?" Quatre asked curiously from the far side of the door. He'd stopped when Wufei had.

"I don't think so, no," Wufei muttered, still studying the grey-clouds.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Quatre pressed, watching the girl.

"No," Wufei returned honestly, studying the clouds a moment longer…then turned back to the store.

Quatre noticed the girl looking back at him and stopped just long enough that she was sure to see he'd stopped…and followed his friend.

Maybe…if Wufei _did_ find something with his research…Quatre could find someone for more than a night. It might be nice not to be alone anymore…but on the same hand, Wufei was showing wonderfully how that sort of thing could go awry.

So what would be worse? To never know and never have the chance…or to take the chance and know, then lose it?

That was definitely something to follow up on.

- -

**October 24, A.C. 204.Base. 4pm**

"I'm not really hungry," Danielle muttered softly, stirring her drink with the straw Chai had provided her.

"You're not really anything," Riley noted. "What's up? You've been withdrawn all day."

"I saw Wufei," she returned.

"Did you?" Jordan asked, startled. He'd realized right off that Wufei was avoiding the woman. Something about him saying she was coming over and Wufei making a very lame excuse and darting…he thought Wufei was making more an effort to stay away from her.

"Yeah," she returned, still watching her drink.

"And?" Xane asked, leaning against the counter. His hair had already grown out enough that you could see a fair bit of roots. His body had also adjusted to the medication so he wasn't exhausted constantly.

"And…nothing," Danielle made a vague gesture with her left hand.

"Weren't you going to talk to him?" Riley asked curiously.

"Yeah…"

"Oh," Jordan noted, looking around a bit.

"Yeah," she agreed again.

They all looked at him.

Jordan shrugged wordlessly, spreading his hands helplessly. He couldn't _say_ that Wufei didn't want to get with the girl. That seemed _beyond_ callous…especially since he could tell Wufei wasn't entirely _sure_ if he didn't want to get with her.

"You didn't tell me," she noted, raising her eyes to his.

"You didn't ask," he agreed, studying hers. "Some things shouldn't be said."

She looked away.

"So put the big mean man aside," Jordan suggested, "and let's break out the Amber."

"I shouldn't drink," Xane noted.

"No, just skip your next dose. You're not healing or anything. You don't _have_ to take it on some regimented schedule."

Xane studied him a moment, then looked to the girls. He looked back to his superior. "Let's go sin."

Jor grinned very slightly at that, then nodded. He turned to look around a moment, then raised his head slightly. "Baby? Wanna sin?"

"Sure, love," Chai called back pleasantly from the garage. "But not with Mouthy."

…even Danielle started giggling very hard at that.

Xane looked sidelong at his superior a moment, then smirked very slightly, raising his own voice. "You don't even know what you're missing…"

Chai's laughter was wicked. "Nothing worth having comes easy."

- -

**November 4, A.C. 204. Base. 9am**

Danielle was fairly eager for her next mission, and Jordan couldn't entirely blame her for it. On top of that, Wufei all but disappeared from Jordan's life because of her. He didn't like that the pair wouldn't be near each other, but he'd never had a normal break-up. He couldn't judge how either really felt, and wasn't intending to press the matter.

He had been intending to send Xane to Vietnam, but his hair wasn't ready. The blond had all been sheered off, but it wasn't out to a style by the time Jor'd been intending to send him. He conceded, finally, sending Danielle and Riley to Manoi. They worked well as a team, and he wouldn't admit it for the world, but he didn't like the idea of either of them being alone.

Once the girls were gone again, Wufei moved back into Jordan's life with news of the lack of progress his study had made. He hadn't expected instant results, but he'd been hoping.

Shin and Chip stayed more nights than not at the house with Chance, and Chip was put into the pre-school. Halloween came…and went without much happening.

With less than a month to go before his wedding, Chance lost anything resembling concentration, and was more often than not staring into the distance.

"Oi, moonlight," Jordan muttered, nudging his friend under the table.

"Huh?" Chance focused on him, blinking. "What did you just call me?"

"Moonlight," Jordan repeated with a grin. "Where were you?"

"Somewhere where vows were flying around my head in Japanese calligraphy," Chance returned, shaking his head.

"Was it pretty?" Jor asked, grinning at him.

Chance grinned back and shook his head, focusing on his eggs, noticing they were cold. He sighed, prodding at the white substance before shaking his head and starting to eat it quickly.

"I was just going all over sending the girls to Vietnam and having Raul in Thailand," Jor informed him. "You actually hear me?"

"I _heard_ you," Chance reassured him. "I wasn't listening, but I _did_ hear."

Jor grinned at him.

"I'm sorry," Chance added when he'd cleared is plate. "It's just…."

"Two and a half weeks," Jordan agreed with a smile. "You gonna make it?"

"We can hope," Chance agreed, studying his friend. "How'd you make it?"

"I'm not sure," Jordan noted, sipping from his coffee cup. "I think I went decaf, to start with…and I just repeated my vows to myself."

"Should I write mine? Like…do the calligraphy?" the guy asked, thinking about it.

"I don't remember if your calligraphy was any good," Jordan shrugged. "Besides, the vows are what you say. If you actually do that, you'll want them displayed."

"Hm," the guy agreed, mixing his hash browns together some more.

"I was researching the tests that have been done on the empaths since the phenomena started," Jordan noted, spreading a thin layer of jelly over a piece of toast. "Back in the day they were a little wicked. They'd put them in confinement cells and shit to see if it helped them get back inside their own heads. That sent a few of'em even more schizo than they had been, so that stopped…and they'd do MRI's of their heads and crap."

"Did you find anything useful?" Chance asked, managing to focus on the topic.

"Not…really," Jor shrugged. "There have been no conclusive studies. People run out of funding before they can get anything accomplished."

"So we need to start looking into grants?" Chance asked, going over the ones he knew right off.

"Pretty much. We might even be able to submit to the government for it, since we're doing it."

"Not unless we get A-list scientists into it," Chance negated, shaking his head as they met eyes. "If we want government funding we'll have to make this a huge deal. Wufei is sincere about this, so he's not gonna be able to handle that. A lot of those guys are worried about the money aspect. Until he finds someone he _needs_ who is expensive we need to work on a lower level."

Jordan nodded, considering that.

"Did you find anything for them to test on?"

"I found some stuff that was intended to be tried," Jordan shrugged. "I printed out the test forms they had and a community thing of empaths willing to be studied."

"That should make him happy."

Jordan nodded, thinking about it.

"So what were you saying?" Chance muttered, picking up his own toast and stealing the remnants of jam from Jordan. "About Nam and Thailand?"

"Just noting that Raul isn't getting anywhere on his end. I think his window is about to pass, but there's not much to do about it…then I was noting to you that I'm really chauvinistic, even if I pretend not to be damn hard."

Chance blinked at him.

"I can't bear the thought of my girls alone," he shrugged. "Xane, Raul, and Jude, sure, fine…but not Riley or Danielle."

"How about your younglings?"

"I started with ten and lost three of them right off," Jor made a face. "Then two more of them…then another. I'm down to four, and one of them isn't making it."

"Who is, then?"

"Brown, Moreau, and Zhou," Jordan shrugged. "I think it's shit that out of ten, only three can fly, but I think getting my five first-off set me up for a dive."

"So are you going to start bringing them around the house? What's the age range?"

"Nineteen, actually," Jordan smirked. "All three are nineteen. I'm gonna have to tell Anderson today that he's not in. I don't think he'll be too upset about it, he sorta wigged out when Riley and Danielle started telling the stories of the trust games."

"Those aren't games," Chance retorted. "That's entrapment…abuse…rape."

Jordan gave him a look.

Chance rolled his eyes. "Your girl got _shot_, Jordan. Someone actually _shot_ her…I had to get Mario to come gather her for you and your guys didn't even let mine see where the hiding place was. If they can't trust _me_, then who _can_ they trust?"

"It was the parameters of the game," Jordan brushed that aside, finishing off his coffee. "I needed them to think on their feet…it's time for me to go, though. I'll see you tonight, probably."

"All right, bring the new toys," Chance called after him, watching him go. When Jor's car had pulled away, Chance shoved his plate away and sipped at his too cool coffee, making a face and rising.

It was so considerate of Jor to not bring him back to when his food was _warm_…

He grinned slightly to himself, and started for the register.

- -

**November 4, A.C. 204. Base. 11am**

"It's more like this…" a guy muttered quietly to his companion, a notebook spread open on his lap. All over the lobby area of the M building, the people were sitting in small and quiet groups, muttering to each other.

Quatre wondered if Paris had ever joined them or not. Gina and Varia had the same sort of conference going on in their room. He would have joined, but he hadn't been keeping his little diary. Fei wanted to study people he didn't know to keep their mutual understandings from tainting the work.

Considering that most people were asking him how he saw the world anymore, he sort of wished he'd followed through on it.

"Hey," Paris muttered happily, moving down the stairs with a can in hand. "You ready?"

Quatre nodded, rising from his seat, then followed his tall friend from the building to a few calls of farewell.

Out of all the things that had happened since Jordan had burst back onto the scene, Chai had to be the best and most useful. Her presence in Quatre's life gave him a grounding-line so he could _function_…and that line was extending to Paris. Since they'd gotten used to her assistance, they'd both calmed down and settled in. Paris wasn't anti-social anymore, and Quatre himself…hell, he'd stopping having to take the Prozac.

On top of that, everyone was convinced that Wufei and Morgan were their saviors. Every empath on the property believed, either openly or in secret, that the pair had what it took to make it all better.

Quatre wasn't sure how that'd started, though. When Wufei had initially been looking for volunteers, he'd been hard-pressed to get _Calvin_. Of course, he'd won over Clinton Anjer…and Mikel Jamison, too. Clinton was backwards, even though Quatre didn't like thinking it. The way he read emotions was completely opposite anyone else Quatre had come across. He didn't like the perpetual flame that burned inside Wufei…just as an initial note, because Quatre himself believed Wufei would figure it out, too.

At any rate, Quatre followed Paris onto the path they took that would lead them to the house.

"You're brooding, what's up?" Paris muttered after a while.

"I'm just trying to decide what I really think of Wufei's meddling."

"He's trying and he means it," Paris noted. "What more do you need?"

"I'm not sure," Quatre replied honestly. "You can trust to his intentions…all of you…but he's my friend before my hope, so I look at this all differently."

"He's doing it _for_ you," Paris retorted, stopping to look at the blond.

"He's doing it to help," Quatre retorted.

"Yeah, you," Paris considered his friend a moment. "He's your friend before your hope, you look at it different. You see him trying to help and use your friendship as a resource. He's doing this so you can walk down the street…"

"No more than you," Quatre protested.

"He did mention that, yeah," Paris agreed, amused. He started walking again. "As your friend, he does everything he can to help you out when you need him to, and the fact that you get overcome in his presence as often as you do drives it in more. He started this because of you."

"It was because of you," Quatre retorted. "It's because you're stronger than me and it takes so much to make a difference to you."

Paris grinned at that, taking another drink from his can. "You gonna start a journal?"

Quatre sighed. That wasn't capitulation, that was moving on. "Yes," he admitted. "Everyone keeps asking me if they can read it."

"It's kinda fun," Paris noted, looking up to him. "Mikel approached me because I guess Fei and Morgan reference me a lot…he showed me his so I showed him mine."

Quatre snorted.

"No, it's what you do," Paris explained happily, turning to walk backwards. "I guess mine is really interesting, because a lot of people keep reading it and being all amazed."

"You're strong," Quatre reminded him. "You probably see fine designs or something…mine's not that special. I just see…balls…like a spark"

It was Paris' turn to snort.

"They kinda move," Quatre added, thinking about it more. "Yours is damn big."

"Nothin' modest about me," Paris noted happily, stopping to look for traffic along the road they were on.

"Not even your ego," Quatre agreed dryly.


	12. 12

— 12 —

**November 8, A.C. 204. Base. 12pm**

"Thank you," Trent muttered quietly to Chai as he sat next to Maximilion. Simone was at the end of the line.

"It's no thing," Chai informed him happily as she passed a bowl of stir-fry to Max. The Asian guy looked a little less than pleased, but muttered his thanks.

"What?" Chai asked, studying his face. "You don't like stir-fry?"

"I'm an odd one," Max returned, poking at the bowl.

"You can tell me no thanks," Chai informed him, hands on her hips. She studied him a moment, then took this bowl and slid it to Simone. "What do you want to eat, then?"

"I'm fine," he started to protest.

"Sure you are, that's why I hear your stomach rumbling," she gave him a look. "I _married_ Jordan," she reminded him. "You can't think I'm oblivious."

He flashed her a slightly embarrassed grin and shrugged.

The electronic beep sounded to let them know the front door had been opened, and they all looked toward the living room.

"Hey!" Jordan greeted his group as he moved into the kitchen. He moved around instantly to kiss his wife, then looked from her to Max, then back to the stove. He grinned slightly and moved to the fridge, pulling it open and pulling out an egg-noodle packet thing. It took him about ten seconds to have that in the microwave before he kissed his wife again. "Get me some of that, huh? I'm changing."

Chai smiled at him and kissed him again for good measure, turning to the stove and starting to scoop out another bowl of stir-fry.

"What?" Trent asked as Jordan disappeared into his bedroom.

"What?" Chai echoed curiously.

Simone giggled slightly, resting her elbow on the counter and her chin in her palm. "You have beautiful eyes."

Chai flashed her a grin, spreading soy-sauce around the bowl as Max's expression registered distaste before clearing again.

It took until just after the microwave beeped for Jordan to be re-dressed and bouncing in socks back to the kitchen. He stopped, kissed his wife again, then turned and pulled the bowl out of the microwave, setting that in front of Max before doing a little spin around Chai to pull out chopsticks and set those in front of the guy, too.

"Ooh," Max muttered, looking a bit excited before controlling himself.

"You're welcome," Jordan reassured him, taking his bowl from Chai and starting to eat.

"I thought you were going to be here, or I wouldn't have come early," Trent noted to him almost apologetically. "I didn't mean to impose..."

"First of all," Jordan noted, "my wife speaks beautiful English, so she understands when you speak. Second of all, she feels neglected if people don't come around three or eight times a week to steal food from us. Last of all, I gave you the impression I'd be here so you could come see how sweet my wife is and be all jealous because she's the perfect woman."

Chai started laughing, smacking him.

Jordan flashed his recruits a grin.

"I want you to disable that stupid beep," Chai reminded the man. "It's fine most of the time, but I'm damn tired of it now, especially when someone comes in at night."

Jordan hesitated, thinking about that. "But it's convenient to have at night."

"No, you'll hear it and wake up yourself. You told me you would."

"I don't know how," he informed her, smiling beatifically at her.

She gave him a very _level_ look.

"What? I don't!" he protested.

"Jordan, you can repair _mecha_. I really don't think a house alarm is _beyond_ you."

He tried not to, but the grin returned and he started chuckling, looking to his recruits. "Who wants to do it?"

"Me!" Simone bounced from her seat excitedly.

Trent had almost raised his hand at the same time, but at the female's voice, he changed his mind, shrugging and going back to eating. Max hadn't even looked up.

"Ooh, great, Max, I'm glad you volunteered."

"What?" Max demanded, half chocking on his noodles and using his hand to cover his mouth briefly. "No! I...I don't know about...I'm not good with..."

"That would be why," Chai said sweetly, moving to pull herself on the counter. "I get the feeling Trent knows enough about hardwiring to figure it out, and Simone's bounce suggests that it's a forte. You need to be able to do anything at a moment's notice, so practice at home when you won't get in trouble."

He blinked at her.

"So...can I like...take Xane and run off?" Jordan asked her curiously. "Leave them with you for a month or two so I don't have to train them?"

Chai giggled and smacked him.

"That'd be fun," Simone noted.

"I'm power hungry," Chai denied sweetly...and focused back on eating as Simone grinned even more.

Jordan smirked at them all and winked at Max before focusing on eating again. When Max only picked at his food, Jordan grinned slightly and turned to the cupboard beside his fridge, pulling out some antacids and tossing them to him. "We'll set you up with Morris for some anti-anxiety stuff, huh?"

Max nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"So where are you taking Mouthy?" Chai added after a moment. "Will I have to start the divorce papers before you come back?"

Jordan turned on her in almost-stunned disbelief. "Hey!"

- -

**November 8, A.C. 204. Lower Angels. 2pm**

"Chance?"

Chance looked up to his office door as Xane moved into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Can I talk to you?"

"No," Chance returned with a serious expression. "You can never talk to me again."

Xane gave him a look.

"I thought I'd break the serious moment?" Chance offered, grinning at him, then frowned. "What's up?"

"I want your opinion," Xane returned, moving to sit across from the man.

"That shirt looks good with those pants, but the black boots aren't so hot," Chance replied easily. "Your hair needs trimmed again, and probably styled. You should never wear make-up. Your boyfriend is a freak for ignoring your cheating. Jordan is always right, no matter what he's saying, and you need to sell your car before it dies."

Xane gave him the sort of level look Chai threw around.

Chance grinned back.

"If you don't want to talk, I can go," Xane noted, looking away.

"Come on," Chance cajoled. "I'm just playing...I thought you found my shit amusing."

Xane sighed and leaned forward against the desk, thinking. "James has convinced himself that I'm in love with Jordan, that when we're...intimate...I'm thinking of Jordan...that everything I do is _for_ Jordan..."

"Interesting, since Jor is straight and you really have no hopes of getting into his bed for more than a nap."

"That was my thought," Xane agreed wryly, starting to mess with the edge of the matting on the desk. "Do you think...I should leave him?"

"I've thought you should leave him since he came into the diner that morning and freaked out that you were cheating with me. The fact that you _are_ cheating suggests that you should have left him a _long_ time ago. The fact that he's obsessing about Jordan means that he's at the end of his rope."

Xane sighed and nodded.

"You should do it before you go to China," Chance added seriously. "That way he can work through it while you're out and hopefully be okay with it by the time you're back again."

"But if I leave him..." Xane started to sit up.

"Xane," Chance cut him off quietly. "Keeping him as a safety blanket isn't fair to him. You care about him, I can tell that...so do you really want to do that to him?"

"It's just..."

"You cheat on him left and right," Chance reminded him softly. "That's not fair to him. He can _tell_ you're cheating, and if he doesn't have the ability to leave you for it...then you need to do it for him."

Xane started to shake his head.

"I'm not going to convince you to do it," Chance noted pointedly. "You either do or you don't. It's not my life, it's not someone I care about, and you with him is nothing but a reason for me to tease you. If you want someone to convince you, head up the hall a few doors and talk to Jor." He studied his young friend a long moment, then sat back in his chair. "Do you want to be here for my wedding?"

Xane looked up to him, blinking.

"It's like...two weeks away," Chance reminded him. "If I get you busy doing stuff for me, then Jor won't send you off. If I don't get you busy, Jor will probably decide in a few days that you're ready for action again. Do you want to come to my wedding or not?"

"I wanted to," Xane said quickly. "But if Jor..."

"But if Jor nothing," Chance noted pointedly. "I don't know his timeline, but he seems to be sending you around at will. Raul doesn't seem to be getting anywhere in Thailand, he can be cycled to China...you speak Russian anyway, so it makes more sense for you to hit the Russian points."

"None of us speak any Asian languages," Xane noted, thinking about that with a frown.

"I think that was one of the main draws for Max," Chance noted. "Not only _is_ he Asian, but he can speak a couple of the languages. I'm pretty sure Simone has a handle on French..."

"Her name might be French, but she was born and raised in Ohio," the guy noted.

"Just because your only training was in spy networking doesn't mean that you were trained better than me," Chance retorted happily. "I'll have you know that I can hack into any machine connected to a network, and I can gather just as much information, if not more, than you."

Xane grinned at him.

"Her grandmother spent about twenty years in France," Chance added. "Her mother spent about ten...she's spent about five. She knows the language, and I think she knows some Portuguese, too."

The younger male considered that a long moment, then rubbed at the back of his neck before he nodded.

"What?" Chance asked blankly.

"I want to stay for your wedding," he explained. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take this, put on your uniform, and head over to Remington to get a check," Chance replied, passing him a folder. "When you get back, be ready to head out far and wide. Places donating big money don't like to send it through the mail, and it's not exactly like I can send a whole entourage. I'll get Allul to go with you so you don't have to be alone, and frosted tips aren't your look."

Xane snorted, snatching the folder from him as he rose.

"I'm gonna give you my signature card, and if you abuse it, I'll lay your ass out. You can run around like my personal secretary and stay out of Jordan's hair. He won't be entirely happy about it, but it's only until after my wedding, so he'll get over it."

"What if I'm good at it?" Xane demanded, stopping at the door.

"Mario has first claim to the post," he shrugged. "He knows what I mean when I say something backwards, and I can get him to throw a tantrum around my wedding so it looks natural that I let you go. Whether or not you're good at it is entirely beside the point, Featihl. It's just busywork so you don't find yourself transplanted to China."

Xane flashed him a grin, and headed toward his car.

- -

**November 9, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 12am**

Judas rubbed his eyes as he lay down on his bed, staring around his darkened apartment. It had been about a month since he'd gotten on Brantley's good side, and the man was finally showing signs of stepping him up from casual footpad.

Now he'd get to play bodyguard.

The main thing, though, was that he'd get to play bodyguard with Bauer in the building...and possibly Holt. They were going to Switzerland for a regional meeting. Brantley didn't _call_ it a regional meeting, but it was that in effect. There would be heads from the Netherlands, Denmark, Belgium, Italy, and Austria...and Bauer controlled Switzerland.

How did that one go? If a tree falls in the woods?

As much as Judas really wouldn't have minded getting rid of a few pointless mafia idiots, he knew that he had to keep playing up to Brantley and not stray off the beaten path. He'd overheard enough to know that the, uh...quarterly earnings...weren't exactly at the level expected.

He also knew that the only reason the guys in Italy weren't chewing their nails off was because Danielle had purchased an extensive array of weaponry from them.

Too bad they didn't realize that this same weaponry was being traced to it's source, and that the nosy officer who'd stopped showing up had turned over a new leaf in Thailand. Too bad they didn't know that Judas himself was keeping a very clean and efficient list of names of anyone who came in or out of dealing with Brantley...too bad they didn't know that they were all being used.

Judas smirked slightly to himself, sitting up to pull off his shoes. He'd dealt with the not-so-happy lackeys who'd tried to waylay him in back alleys, and he'd even burned the bridge between himself and Orson...and Igor. The pair of them were tiny little grains of sand on the ocean floor. Their black-dealings were minute to the point of non-existence, but they were guilty by association. Judas didn't want them to end up dead because of something _he_ did...because he liked them. They were innocent of the overall scheme of things, and they had no business working with an I.E.C. agent.

They'd done their part, and as a reward for that, they wouldn't get put away. Even if they got arrested in this racket, Judas wasn't going to let them burn.

He lay back again, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn't going to be able to win over Bauer first off, that'd take some time...but what else did he have? He could move on in the cycle with the rest, going to those cities to find the arms, but Danielle had succeeded in getting a nice sampling of their sources. That meant that the dealings would start focusing on the people behind it, at least if Jor's guys could track the stuff.

It was going to be a damn long winter, but at least it wouldn't be boring.

Judas grinned into the darkness of his apartment.

He wouldn't stand for it if it were going to get boring.


	13. 13

— 13 —

**November 8, A.C. 204. Base. 4pm**

"Hello, Miss Huang?"

"Speaking," Shin noted into her cell, sitting back from the box she'd been packing while Zachary napped.

"Hi," the man said happily. "This is Dr. Morris from the base..."

"Oh, hello," Shin muttered back.

"I just got the records of Zachary's care," Morris explained. "And I've noticed that there are several tests on the boy that haven't been done yet."

"Tests?" Shin asked, sitting back against the bed. "What sort of tests?"

"Oh, you know...T.B., gene prognosis, paternity, immunity...just a few tests we run on children early on in their lives."

"Oh," Shin blinked again.

"I wanted to make him an appointment," Morris noted. "Get these tests run...I'll need your signature on a few."

"That's fine," Shin reassured him, still startled. "Um...do you usually call patients yourself?"

"No, but I liked you and I like your fiancé, so I decided it was a special case," he laughed a bit.

"All right...what were those tests again?" she grabbed a piece of paper–she wanted to runt he stuff by Chance first-off.

"T.B.," he repeated, "gene prognosis...immunity. I can call Heero if you want me to."

"His name is Chance," Shin reprimanded sweetly.

"Yuy, I said Yuy, what are you talking about?" he laughed again.

Shin smiled. "All right. I'll talk to Chance tonight and we can call tomorrow to make the appointment, right?"

"All right, that'd be wonderful," Morris agreed. "Have a good evening."

"Thank you," she returned, smiling slightly as she looked around for more stuff to pack. He made a happy sort of noise and hung up.

Shin shook her head, closing her phone and starting to grab things up again.

Wait...had he said paternity?

She looked back to her list and blinked, wondering about that a moment.

She must have been hearing things.

- -

**November 12, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"You're doing _what_?" Jordan demanded of Xane irritably.

"I'm going back to Remington to pick up a few computers that were donated to the center," Xane repeated in exasperation.

"You've been running around for Chance all week," Jordan protested, slamming a file on top of the outbox.

There were more in the inbox than in the outbox.

Xane studied him a long moment, then pointed at the inbox.

"What?" Jordan demanded irritably.

"You've been doing it yourself again?" Xane demanded.

Jordan looked to the pile, then up at his second.

Xane rolled his eyes, then turned and pulled the office door open. "Jennings!"

"Yeah?" a soldier called back, running up from down the hall.

"I have this wonderful job for you," Xane noted seriously, studying the guy as he saluted Jordan quickly. "Every day, when you have free time, you come read through as many as these reports as you can," Xane pointed at the inbox. "Fill out the comment sheet and return them to the desk."

"Yes, sir," Jennings said happily, bouncing in and grabbing a few off the pile before saluting Jordan again...and disappearing.

"Damn it, Xane," Jordan started.

"Bower!" Xane shouted down the hall, ignoring his superior.

A second soldier came up, saluting them both.

"When you have free time, you read as many as these files as you can. It's up to you and Jennings to get through as many as these as possible so Maxwell can get home to Chai on time. You got me?"

"Yes, sir," the guy noted, smiling at him and taking another small pile off the top.

"Don't forget to fill in the comment cards," Xane added. "And we'll get a third basket set up so you can just dump them there."

"Yes, sir," the guy repeated, saluting Jordan again, then disappeared down the hall.

Jordan gave Xane a very _level_ look.

"Oh yeah, I'm _your_ second, three-star," Xane noted in amusement. "By default I outrank all sorts of people, ha!"

...and with that, he turned and bounced from the office.

Jordan glowered after him, taking one of the remaining files and shaking his head.

His second was thoroughly annoying.

- -

**November 13, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"Hey, Yuy," Morris muttered happily. "Get your ass to the med-tent."

"Why?" Chance asked blankly.

"I want to run another test on you," Morris explained dryly.

"You said you did them all already," Chance protested.

"Oh, just come in with Chip and we can do you both. Then you can see how brave that little boy is while he sees you chicken out."

Chance snorted at that, but the idea of showing the boy that shots were okay was appealing. "Whatever, if I have to wait when you call him back I'll be pissed."

"Don't be stupid, that girl of yours will need to give you a big hug to keep you from crying, so I'll just do you both here really fast."

Chance snorted again, rising to his feet. He hadn't been intending to go with Shin to get the boy's testing done, but it would probably help.

"Where are you going?" Une asked curiously, stopping just beyond him.

"Ma'am," he saluted her quickly. "Morris wants to do some more tests on me and Shin is taking Chip in. I'll be back."

She blinked at him.

Chance shrugged. "It was an order, you want to counter?"

She gave him a look and passed him a file. "Just put that in your inbox and read it before tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am," he reassured her, tossing the file onto his desk. "Was that everything?"

"Yeah, see you later," she returned, turning and starting away.

Chance saluted her again, then turned and started for his car.

- -

**November 13, A.C. 204. Base. 10:30am**

"Yuy! Just sign them," Morris muttered irritably to Chance as he moved back into the room. "Honestly, you do this every time."

"This one seems thicker," Chance retorted, looking up.

Shin smiled at the doctor and passed him her forms.

"Hi, Zachary," Morris greeted the little boy, moving to meet his eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Zach returned with a nod of his head before he smiled at the doctor.

Chance studied that a moment, then sighed and started flipping through the pages to the signature spots. He knew Morris wouldn't screw him over, and he did have other stuff to do than read a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo.

"Thank you," Morris said, flashing him a slightly naughty grin as he took the paperwork. "Come on," he added, gesturing for them to follow.

"You're impatient," Chance noted speculatively as he followed his fiancé. "What's up your sleeve, old man?"

"I'm gonna use some of your blood to compare to an empath's," Morris shrugged. "Last form."

"Hey!" Chance protested at him, though he was amused. "You did that on purpose."

"Yep, I'm bad like that...worse, even," he flashed the guy another grin.

Chance rolled his eyes, moving into the room.

"Okay, big-man," Morris muttered, swinging Zach around onto the exam table. "I want to do the bravest first."

Zachary giggled, then pointed at Chance.

Chance moved to sit next to the boy, rolling his eyes and extending his arm.

"Hm," Morris looked between them when Zachary hesitantly followed suit. "Innie, minie, miney...moe," he pointed at Chance and shrugged.

Zachary giggled more.

"He did it on purpose," Chance noted to the boy in a whisper.

Zach grinned at him.

"Okay, baby," Shin muttered, moving in front of her fiancé. "I want you to be brave, and you'll get a sucker when you're done."

...which got the little boy to start giggling again.

Morris turned back to Chance with a needle in hand, showing it to his patient briefly before swapping a spot on the man's arm.

"If you'd tie my arm off, it'd help," Chance informed him pointedly.

"Oh, fine," Morris grumbled, pulling the little thing from his pocket and wrapping it around Chance's arm. He flicked the vein a few times, then sank the needle in.

Chip's eyes rounded.

Chance sighed, bringing the boy's attention to the fact that he wasn't upset. "How many vials are you gonna take?"

"Two," the man noted, pulling the first out and setting it aside.

"You gonna tell me why?" Chance asked, looking to his arm as the man pressed cotton to it.

"I hadn't intended to, no," Morris grinned at him.

"Is this because my tests before or something?"

"No, I wanna test a few things, that's all," Morris shrugged dismissively.

Chance blinked at him as he filled the second vial.

"There we go," he added, turning with the things and setting them carefully in a tray. "Now for you, little man," he muttered as he untied the little tourniquet thing and wrapped the cotton balls to Chance's arm with tape. "I only need a little one. You wanna look for the ducky?"

"No, it's okay," the boy refused, looking back to his dad a moment.

Chance nodded approvingly at him as he fixed his sleeve.

"Okay, here we go," Morris noted, wrapping the tourniquet around his arm. "I'm gonna make this quick, all right?" he swabbed the spot and met the boy's eyes.

Chance slid off the table, re-gathering his uniform jacket and sliding it on as the boy watched. He did-up the buttons quickly, then met the boy's eyes with a smile.

"Ow," Chip muttered, looking down quickly and blinking.

"It's only a little ow," Chance noted, moving up to his side. "You're all right."

Zachary looked like he really wanted to cry, and his lower lip trembled very slightly as the needle was removed.

"You're all done," Morris noted happily, showing him the bandaids.

"Hey, I didn't get those!" Chance protested at the man, hoping to keep the kid from crying.

"You're a big boy," Morris informed him sarcastically. "You got a big boy bandaid."

That amused the child, though he didn't laugh as he pointed at a bandaid that didn't have anything on it, watching as Morris put it on him.

"You're so brave," Chance congratulated him, picking him up and hugging him as Shin smiled.

"Am I really?" Chip asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yeah, most little boys start crying," Chance reassured him, spinning with him. "You did it just like me!"

Chip smiled proudly at that...and Chance met eyes with Morris, who was watching with his secretive little smirk.

"What?" Chance asked the man, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't say anything," Morris noted, turning to put the vial on the holder.

"You were giving me a look, why were you giving me a look?"

"You're cute," Shin noted in amusement, moving to take her son. "Right, Dr. Morris?"

Morris grinned at her, then offered a hand to Chance.

Chance rolled his eyes slightly and shook it, blinking when the man formally saluted him. He returned the gesture as the nurse pushed into the room and blinked, then noticed his rank tag. She stood at attention herself, saluting him formally as he passed with Shin.

It seemed to spread from there. The personnel all seemed to see each other making the gesture, and as Chance led Shin from the building, everyone in it seemed to stop and salute him.

He wasn't used to that _much_ respect from anyone. He only used his rank when he had to, so it unnerved him to be so respected for no other reason than his presence.

"You really are a three star general," she noted quietly, touching the rank tag on his chest as they stopped at his car.

"I have been for a few years now," he noted, raising an eyebrow. "I believe I told you about it when I got the upgrade."

"I know," she returned. "It didn't mean anything before, though."

He blinked at that, then took Zach from her and set him in his booster in the back seat as she climbed in.

He left the med-tent with an eerie feeling that something more than he'd expected had happened in that visit. He'd noticed that the labels for his and Zach's blood had been somewhat the same, but he hadn't focused on the actual tests. The secretive smile the man had worn also suggested something more had happened than his blood being all but stolen for testing against empaths. Further, the fact that the man _hadn't_ explained the tests...well, it could have been because of Shin, but Chance figured he wouldn't have called them in at the same time if it were something like that...so what was it?

"What did he say? When he called you?" he asked the woman.

"Morris?" she returned, then shrugged. "He wanted to do some gene prognosis and stuff...I guess they're normal tests."

"That makes sense," he muttered, thinking about it. "What else?"

"I don't recall exactly. I showed you what he said to me. Why?"

"He usually tells me why he's testing me," Chance explained, then looked at the child in the review mirror. "You wanna go to the canteen?"

Chip perked up, then nodded.

"Let's get something to snack on," Chance added to his fiancé.

"All right," she returned. "Are you done yet?"

"No, Une has something she wants me to read and return to her. It won't take me long, I'm sure. We can get a snack, I'll drop you at the house, and then I'll finish that up. Are you staying tonight?"

"I want to!" Chip exclaimed excitedly, sitting up. "I want to move in now!"

Shin turned to look at him a moment, then ginned and shrugged at her almost husband. "The man of the house has spoken."

Chance grinned in return, and wondered if it was just him, or if the overcast clouds really _were_ pretty.


	14. 14

— 14 —

**November 19, A.C. 204. Base. 10pm**

For all that Chance really hadn't been interested in a bachelor party, he didn't protest the guys gathering up everyone to hit Sins.

Chai took Shin off to the male stripper area while Jordan led the rest of his friends to the female stripper area. None of them usually sought out strippers, but it seemed the thing to do.

Aside from teasing Paris, who'd insisted he wanted to go for the party, nothing of any real interest was happening, so the various guys decided to set the strippers on each other for lap dances...which was funny enough when the girls caught onto the game and would sneak up on their targets...

But it was getting damn loud from the male side.

"Wait, wait wait!" they heard someone cutting into the noise. "Wait a second...who's our bride-to-be?"

Chance focused on the wall separating the areas in disbelief.

"Come on, angel, what's your name?"

"Shin," he heard her say quietly.

"What a lovely name," he muttered in amusement. "Well, miss lovely," he added. "As this is your last night as an unmarried woman...we generally have a treat for our bachelorettes."

"My fiancé is on the other side of that wall," Shin noted pointedly.

The noise for this exploded across the room as Chance covered his face with his hands.

"Oh is he, now?" the man sounded highly amused. "Hey, husband? Your wife is busy..."

Shin laughed in disbelief.

"Wait, wait wait, did she just say there was a bachelor party here?" a woman asked, moving onto stage and looking the crowd over. "How many of you want to play bachelor party?"

"They came to the Seven Deadly Sins for a bachelor party?" another woman asked in evil amusement as she joined the first.

The crowds were going berserk.

"Jor, baby?" Chai's voice came through the microphone. "Chance needs some attention, huh?"

Shin was laughing wickedly.

"So...which is the fiancé?" the guy asked.

"Chance is," Chai explained. "Jor is _my_ husband."

"Ooh, possessive," the man laughed wickedly.

"Chance?" the second woman asked looking around.

"Right here!" Xane shouted, jumping up and pointing the man out. "He's right here!"

Jordan started laughing wickedly.

Chance, however, didn't seem inclined to move from his spot at the woman's coaxing. The woman finally turned to his companions with a hand on he rhip to get _someone_ to move him...which led to Trowa laughing as he pushed, pulled, and tugged Chance from his seat up to the stage.

"So, my fine gentle man," the first woman muttered, moving onto her knees in front of him and looking up to his eyes. "We're going to show you how to have a bachelor party...the Sins way."

Chance laughed even more, trying to step back as the crowd cheered happily. The other woman, however, was in the way.

"D.J.?" the second woman added after a moment. "Hit it."

- -

**November 20, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

Trowa's box of the Bloody Mary mix was emptied fairly shortly as the guys all lounged around the end-room place. After the puking had subsided, the re-hydration started, which was a wonderful prelude to the severe bout of nerves one Japanese bridegroom began suffering hard.

"Come on," Wufei muttered, rousing himself to rise. "I'll shave you and trim your hair."

Chance laughed a bit nervously at that, but did follow.

"I need to go make sure Chai's all right," Jordan noted, rising to his feet. "I'll bring Chip back so we can get him suited up."

"All right," Chance agreed, then moved into the bathroom.

Jordan wasn't feeling great yet, but the Bloody Mary mix made him about ten times better than he had been. He knew that within the hour he'd be fine, and by two, when the wedding was, he'd be perfectly fine. The previous day had been taken up by a few run-throughs of the ceremony before the rehearsal supper and Sins.

He pulled into his house, noting that there were about twenty more females than he knew...okay, it was Shin's family and friends. They all blinked at him as he moved through the living room, and he was happy to see that they did have a box of Bloody Mary mix.

"Jordan!" Chip greeted him happily.

"Oh, hi, Baby," Chai muttered, moving blurrily into the kitchen after the boy. She kissed him, then sighed as she indicated the box. "We're out."

"Here," he slid the extra one he'd grabbed to her. "You and Shin should have had first pull."

"I made sure she did, but I took Chip out back while they all puked."

"I'll take him now. Do you girls need anything else?"

"We should be fine," she reassured him, kissing him again. She moved to gather her glass and water tiredly as he grabbed up the little boy and moved into his room.

"Morning, Jordan," Shin muttered, blinking up at him from the bed. "Is Chance all right?"

"He's fine. He took his Bloody Mary an hour or two before the rest of us woke up. Fei is shaving him and trimming his hair."

"All right," she muttered, then blinked as he grabbed the small suit.

"I'll take him back to be with the men, huh?" he asked the kid with a wink.

Chip grinned at him.

"Did you bring Chai some mix?" she asked, thinking a moment. "We thought there was some here."

"I did...and I haven't bought any myself yet."

She nodded.

"Come on, buddy, your dad is waiting for us."

"All right," Chip returned, bouncing over to kiss Shin on the cheek. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Zachary," she returned, touching his hair as she smiled at him. "Be good for your uncles...I mean, be really really bad."

Chip giggled and bounced from the room in front of the male.

"Love you," Jordan muttered, kissing Chai before she could take her drink. "I'm glad there's still a few hours before the ceremony."

She smiled and kissed him again, then took a steadying breath.

Jordan really wanted to stay and help her through the puking part, but Chip would probably be very uncomfortable to hear it, and maybe even scared, so he took the little boy by the hand, smiled at his wife...and led the child from the house.

They had about four hours before the ceremony started.

He had shit to do.

- -

**November 20, A.C. 204. Base. 3pm**

The saying always went that while everyone was looking at the bride, she was only looking at you, and Chance was very grateful that he had as good of friends as he did. Wufei's shave job had been ten times better than he'd have been able to do, and about two times better than he normally did...or something, anyway. The trim on his hair had been a long time coming, so he knew he looked fine, and the well-fitted tux sealed his own little deal.

Of course, nothing compared to his wife. She'd been glowing and gorgeous in her well fitted gown...and there had been no one else in that room except them and the priest...and Zach.

The little boy had performed his duty as ring-bearer excellently, and had been rewarded by instantly getting the pictures out of the way before getting to put on his own play clothes so he could run around with his cousins and be insane like a normal child.

The actual ceremony had been cut down to the shortest sweetest possible thing, and aside from him freaking out that he couldn't remember his vows–he had, and recited them how he'd practiced them, which made her tear up–the thing had gone smoothly.

Chip was staying with his grandmother for a few days while they went on their honeymoon, and then they'd get to settle in and be a family again.

The first dance...he'd never been much of a slow dancer, but following Shin's lead, everything else seemed distant...unimportant.

She laughed slightly, her own eyes tearing up as she wiped the tears from his face. "What?"

Chance laughed himself, leaning forward to kiss her again, still disbelieving the entire thing.

"Dad? Are you crying?" Chip asked, appearing between her dress and his legs, blinking up at him.

Chance laughed, leaning down to scoop the boy up and hug him as Shin moved in to hug them both. "I'm just really really happy, son," he explained, kissing the boy's cheek. "It's all right."

"But it's making Mom cry," Chip noted, frowning at the woman briefly.

"I'm really really happy, too," Shin noted, taking her son from him. "It's not sad tears."

Chip considered that a moment, then looked back to his dad again.

"First dance," Chance muttered to her, smiling slightly.

Shin smiled back at him, that same beautiful smile, then moved away from him as the crowd cooed over how incredibly sweet and cute that was.

Jordan moved up to Chance's side, offering him a tissue with an understanding smile, then turned and pulled Chai with him onto the dance floor.

Chance laughed a little to himself, wiping his eyes even more, then noticed the windows as the sun seemed to shine brightly, even if there was a cloud covering.

Yes...yes...the November clouds were _very_ beautiful...it wasn't just him.

- -

**November 20, A.C. 204. Base. 7pm**

"Chance, just a moment, please," Morris muttered, moving up to the man as he and Shin stopped beside their waiting limousine.

"What's up?" Chance asked, blinking at him.

"First thing you do when you get back to base is come to me," Morris ordered quietly as people demanded why he was interrupting the send-off. "It's my gift to you."

"We don't need any gifts," Chance protested, smiling at him.

"It's one I _want_ to give you, but I didn't have the chance," the man clicked his tongue and winked at him before moving to kiss Shin on the cheek. "Just come, huh?"

Chance blinked at him, then nodded his acceptance–the man melted back into the cheering crowd, and the man shrugged at his wife as she slid into the limo.

"Get her pregnant," Chai ordered from where she stood with Shin's sister. "I want a baby."

"So have one," Chance retorted, flashing her a smile. "If I try, it won't happen."

Chai giggled and waved at Shin, who was laughing as he carefully moved her gown inside the vehicle before sliding in himself. His wife leaned across him when he'd rolled the window down to wave at the cheering crowd.

Where was Jordan? Xane? The guys? Where had they all gone? Chance blinked at the crowd uncertainly.

"What was that all about?" Shin muttered, resting her head against his shoulder as they pulled off.

"Chai still has to get used to not living in the slums," he noted, holding her tightly. He didn't want to admit his disappointment that his friends were out of sight. "She can get pregnant and it won't hurt anything."

"I think she's scared, if she's miscarried before."

"I should talk to Jor about it," Chance mused, kissing her briefly.

"Three whole child-less days, what _ever_ will we do to entertain ourselves?" Shin asked wickedly.

"Hm, I wonder," Chance muttered in return, smiling down at her, then looked up to note a series of men standing by the gatehouse at full attention. "Look at that..." he muttered.

Shin turned to see as well before moving quickly to roll down the window and wave at them. The gate was up, so the limo didn't have to stop...but evidently Duty, a man who Chance considered a friend, had decided for a full show of respect.

They moved almost in unison to salute.

Chance studied that a moment before smiling and returning that salute...which released them from their stasis so they moved running after the limo cheering with champagne bottles spraying over the top of it...which seemed to be a theme as the various specialty unit members started doing the same thing, lining the drive up to the base from the main road. Actually, Wayne Miller and Logan Doll were standing about halfway down the drive, making an arc with their bottles, the streams crossing over the center of the drive as the limo moved under it.

Shinyue was laughing delightedly as Chance rolled down his own window, laughing himself...and then his friends appeared with the various seconds at the very end, where the limo had to stop...and _threw_ confetti and glitter all over the wet machine, as well as into the windows.

Shin's laughter couldn't have been more true as she snatched a bottle from Xane, who was near the car...and took a drink of it, keeping ahold of the thing and toasting him as the limo started pulling away.

Xane shouted his approval...and the limo headed for the harbor. The four former pilots were standing in triumph as they waved after their friend with the five seconds cheering and spraying champagne at each other.

Chance...hoped no one _ever_ outdid that send off.

- -

E/N: Yay!! thank you for reveiws!


	15. 15

— 15 —

**November 23, A.C. 204. Base. 1pm**

Listening to Zachary tell Shin all about his stay-over at Grandma's was cute, and his hand seemed very small to Chance as he led the boy toward the med-tent to fulfill his promise to Morris. Chai and Jordan were strolling hand in hand a few steps behind, and Wufei was waiting outside the office with a fountain drink in one hand. Morgan, Paris, and Quatre were a few steps off, and Chance could see Trowa hurrying from where his car had just parked up the road a ways.

"Hey," Wufei greeted them easily when they moved within hearing range. "What news?"

"You can't tell pregnancy for three weeks," Shin retorted happily.

Wufei flashed her a naughty grin.

"Does my honeymoon _have_ to be over?" Chance appealed to Quatre as Trowa joined them. "I can take Chip and run off again. You four get real busy so Une can't send you after us and all…"

Quatre grinned at him.

"What's this about, anyway?" Jordan asked, passing the fountain drink he was holding to his wife.

"We're here to have an intervention for your wife," Trowa explained with a negligent shrug. "We need her to _believe_ she can get pregnant…we'll all help."

Chai made a partially offended, partially amused, noise and smacked him.

Trowa flashed her a grin as they started into the building.

Morris was initially pleased to see Chance and Shin…but then he noted the entourage and frowned slightly, looking them all over.

"Were you _waiting_ for us?" Quatre asked him blankly.

"Yes indeed he was," Paris agreed, looking to his friend conversationally. "He's also very anxious that it's not just the newly weds."

Morris gave them both looks and gestured with his head toward the hall.

"No forms?" Shin teased.

"You've filled them out already," Morris returned, moving through the group to open the door to the first exam room.

Chance stopped, focusing sharply on the man as a few suspicions resurfaced.

"Come on," Jor muttered, shoving him through the door. "I'm damn curious now."

The group moved in and spread around the small room, giving the doctor a very interested look.

"I'm not happy that you brought your entourage, because I don't know how you'll react," Morris noted, frowning at Shin a moment before looking back to Chance.

"What is it?" Chai asked curiously, passing the drink back to her husband.

"Well…" the man hesitated a moment longer, then moved to a pile of papers on the counter and dug out a few sheets of paper, hesitating…before offering them to Chance.

Chance took those, studying the man's eyes before focusing…on the results of a paternity test.

He stared.

They'd _told_ him they weren't sure who…

Chance's heart skipped a beat.

"What?" Shin asked, moving to look better herself. "I don't understand."

"What is it?" Jor asked, trying to catch the words through the back of the page.

"But…" Chance looked up to Morris in disbelief. "How…I…"

"Look at the boy, Yuy," Morris muttered sincerely. "Watch how he moves, how he talks…look at the pictures of you in the report files."

Jordan's jaw dropped as Wufei and Quatre exchanged disbelieving looks.

Trowa was sniggering with a hand over his mouth.

"I…" Chance stared down at the papers again, then looked around to his wife, moving the paper so she could read it properly.

"Chance," she said quietly, looking it over. "I don't read that well."

"It…Shin…" he hesitated a moment before meeting her eyes fully. "I'm his father."

She stared at him.

"But she was two months pregnant when they met," Chai protested, staring in disbelief at the doctor.

Morris moved back to the file and pulled out a pair of pictures. One of Heero Yuy from…an attack, actually. The oldest picture on file of him, and the only picture from his childhood that anyone could find. The second picture was one of Chip.

There were definite similarities…more than the fact that they were both Asian descent.

Jordan pulled Chai to himself, still not believing.

"But…how?" Shin asked, dumbfounded.

"You were a backroom girl, right?" Wufei asked, studying her. "You'd seen him around before you actually started talking to him, right?"

She flushed slightly, meeting his eyes before she nodded.

"I need…to sit down," Chance muttered, looking back to the boy…to _his_ boy…in disbelief.

"Here," Morgan muttered, shoving a chair to him.

"You asked me what tests I was running and I didn't tell you," Morris reminded him quietly. "I figured that if it was a negative result I'd just keep the thoughts to myself…but either you have a brother here in town…or…" he shrugged, looking to Chip.

Zach was studying his parents curiously.

"How…is this…possible?" Chance whispered, offering his arms to the boy.

"Chance and circumstance…plus pearl, I imagine," Trowa offered helpfully.

Chance shot him a venomous look as the boy climbed into his lap…and Shin covered her mouth with her hand before throwing herself at the pair of them…and starting to cry.

"Mom, why are you crying?" the boy demanded quickly, looking alarmed.

"Happy tears, baby," she replied, holding him even closer as Chance tried to hold her, too. "Oh, Chance," she added, turning to hug him better. "Oh, Chance…"

"Quatre?" Paris whispered, shying away backwards.

"Yeah," Quatre returned, understanding. The feeling of her appreciation, joy, confusion, and guilt wasn't overwhelming to him…Chance's own confusion and concern with his disbelief didn't bother him.

Paris, however, was stronger…and the others were disbelieving, too.

Quatre moved forward to hug his friend, then Shin, kissing her forehead with a slight smile before moving backwards, looking the others over…and then turned to follow his friend from the room.

"Why don't you and me go find a vending machine, huh?" Trowa muttered, moving forward to offer his arms to Chip. "I'll get you a candybar, huh, kid?"

Chip frowned at him, then his mother, then shrugged and raised his arms in consent.

Trowa met Jordan's eyes on his way out, smiling very slightly.

"I'm…gonna…do…that," Morgan noted, moving around quickly to follow the other.

"So are we all making ourselves scarce?" Wufei asked, moving around them himself to stand with Chai and Jor.

"I dunno," Jor shrugged, taking another drink.

"It'd probably be more…nice," Chai muttered, tilting her head.

"Oh, Chance…I'm so sorry," Shin muttered, holding him tighter. "I'm so…"

"Sorry for what?" Chance returned, blinking at her.

"You did so much for me," she returned, dropping onto his lap. "I was so mean to you…"

"Mean?" he returned in amusement. "You _married_ me…"

"No, before…" she explained, burying her face in his neck. "You were trying so hard," she added, crying harder. "You got me everything I craved, you took me to my appointments…you made sure I took the prenatal shit…and then you _paid_ for the hospital fees…"

"Shin," Chance started to reprimand.

"Every time he was sick, every time we needed clothes…all my bills…"

"Come on," Chance muttered, pulling her away to meet her eyes. He didn't _want_ to remember that time between her and Jordan…not the bad stuff, anyway.

"You were _always_ there for me," she whispered, studying his eyes. "And I was so bad to you…"

"That was situational," he noted quietly, wiping her tears. "You know I didn't get us out of that shit…I didn't know what I was doing…"

"But you _tried_," she informed him. "You _tried_ your damnedest…"

"You're my wife," he whispered back, leaning up to her. "You are my _wife_."

She blinked at him.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Shinyue," he whispered. "You married me, and Zach is mine…he's _mine_…it doesn't matter."

She studied his face a moment, then moved forward to hug him again.

"Maybe we should," Chai muttered.

Jordan grinned at her and took the fountain drink back from her.

"Get _out_," Morris muttered, swatting at Wufei's hair.

Wufei grinned at him, then shrugged the pair. He shoved Jordan toward the door and Chai grinned, moving ahead of them.

"You should get out, too," Wufei noted to the doctor.

"I might," the man returned, then focused back on the newlyweds.

"So," Wufei muttered as they started for the entrance. "Are you two going to have kids or not?"

Jordan tilted his head as he considered it.

"Have…kids?" Chai echoed, blinking at him. "Just…like that?"

"I suppose it _is_ your body, so it _would_ be your choice, but…"

"Just…like that?" she repeated, focusing back on Jordan.

"We'd have to kick Quatre out in a year or two," he noted, "but if you get your ass on interrupting the empathy, that won't even be a problem."

"But…" Chai stopped as they joined the others outside the building.

"She's scared and worried," Quatre noted.

"The past, it's something about the past," Paris added.

Chai blinked at them, then started to shake her head.

"You're scared," Jordan noted, looking down. "But anytime you're ready…anything you want," he noted, meeting her eyes.

"I don't know if…Jordan…last time…"

His eyes were sad as he studied her.

"You're not _in_ Angels, Chai," Trowa noted quietly. "You have the funds, you have the facilities…you have the home…you can _have_ children."

She took a few breaths, starting to shake her head.

"Didn't you miscarry because your boyfriend?" Quatre asked quietly.

Her eyes went sad as she looked away.

"Think about your life," Quatre suggested. "Think about where you are, where you _live_…then remember hell. Remember those apartments with no insulation. Think about the mafia bullshit you and Jor played with down there…and look around," he gestured to the area as the first patters of rain started falling from the sky. "Nothing is the same as it was…including the abusive boyfriend."

She blinked at him again.

"You started a help center that helps thousands and thousands of people as a passing suggestion," Quatre added, moving closer to her. "I was on Prozac for a couple years and depressed…until you showed up. You brought Jordan back to us, you help us stay together…and in all honesty, there's no one on this base I'd rather see. You're married to a three-star general." He studied her eyes a moment. "Last time…has no bearing on _this_ time…and you won't be alone. You have Shin now."

She studied him for a moment in amazement, then looked back to Jordan.

"See," Trowa noted happily to Chip. "I told you we were having an intervention."

- -

E/N: hehehe...mm, I'm quite a ways ahead in writing, so I'd forgotten which chapter this was...mm, thanks for the reviews Cara and Mary, they made me all happy and stuff, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Also, I would have posted yesterday/last night, but I live in the northwest and there's this lovely storm that's stretched from Canada to upper Cali, so we were without electricity last night at the point I would have updated. Sorry about that. Enjoy!


	16. 16

— 16 —

**November 25, A.C. 204. Airport. 9 pm**

"Here," Jordan muttered, passing Xane some discs as they sat in the terminal. "This is that language thing I told you about yesterday."

"All right," Xane muttered, taking the things and pulling up his laptop case. "I'll work on it during the flight, huh?"

"Sound plan," Jor agreed, glancing to his watch. "You'll have eighteen hours to kill and since you'll be getting there at eight in the morning you might take some of that time out to sleep."

"I'll figure it out," Xane shook his head. "Skipping time zones sucks."

"Get used to it," Jor retorted.

"You're one to talk, you have an hour's commute to the only other place _you_ go."

Jordan gave him another look.

The guy grinned slightly, looking around to see who was near. No one was in the immediate vicinity, so he leaned over against Jor's shoulder with a sigh. "I did it."

"Did it?" Jor asked, considering that. "Did what?"

"I...broke up with James," the spy explained.

Jordan blinked at that, then pulled back slightly to consider his friend before smiling slightly. "He'll be okay...and remember, I'm here so you have someone to come home to."

"I was with him for three years," Xane grumbled, grabbing a handful of Jor's jacket with one hand. He was studying the guy's boots. "Don't be so cavalier about it."

"You did it for the best," Jor reassured him, resting his own hand on the other's a moment. "It's gonna be hard, I'm sure...but he has his friends and you have yours. You two haven't really gotten along since we met...don't dwell, huh?"

"I guess," Xane agreed, still studying his superior's boots.

"Oi," Jor muttered, looking to the people moving into the area. Xane sat up properly as a pair of elderly Asians moved toward them arguing about if they should sit and wait or go look at the shops. The woman was noting that there were only two guys there, which meant the flight was a ways off yet anyway, so she should go look for her...

A now-boarding call came over the loudspeakers, which kept Jordan from hearing what she was trying to get, and he smiled down at his second.

"How many languages is that disc?" Xane muttered, pulling his laptop case onto his lap again and starting to pull the machine out.

"Asian," Jor returned. "Most of them, but not dialects. Just focus on the Mandarin for now. I wish I could have gotten this for you months ago, but I don't think that far ahead. I'll get more of them together for all of you, that way we don't have the language issue anymore. I should have started this right off. I'm going to with the babies."

"Don't they speak a fair range?" Xane muttered, looking to his friend as the disc loaded into the machine.

"In the same respect that you five speak a fair range, yes," Jor agreed. "Unfortunately, getting taught the main languages of the land isn't a fad anymore. Street urchins and emotionless weapons have to make do with their native tongue."

That got him a look, though it _was_ an amused one.

"I'm gonna get out of here before someone sees me who shouldn't," Jor added. "I haven't heard of any mixed contacts, but that doesn't mean anything until the fat lady sings."

"Turn on Jeabble at eleven," Xane suggested. He was reading the end-user agreement. "There's a fat chick named Shiane who sings."

Jor snorted, running his hand briefly through the guy's hair before starting away. "Take care of yourself and remember the check in times."

Xane met his eyes, then smiled slightly and nodded, watching as the guy walked away. He pulled out his headphones from the case and plugged them in, glancing to the older couple who were still discussing whatever they had been. He put one earbud in and tucked the other around his ear so he could still hear, then focused on the beginning steps of the program.

Hopefully he'd be able to speak it before he got there, but understanding would suffice. Understanding would be a _definite_ first step.

- -

**November 26, A.C. 204. Airport. 5 pm**

Raul sighed as he moved across the airport toward the luggage area. He wasn't fond of defeat in any form, so his complete failure in two missions in a row was weighing him down heavily. He was happy that he at least had friends on base that he'd be able to spend time with for a week, and Jordan would be able to tell him the actual status of all his comrades. Actually, he also had the new recruits...hopefully that would be a good point, too...he wanted to try to help Wufei while he was at it.

He wasn't sure how long he'd get to stay on the base, but he had plans for what he did manage to pull off.

But where was Jor?

He slowed at the area the man had been waiting before–the man had a lovely tendency to be consistent...but he wasn't...

"Yo," Barton called, waving a hand at him. "Over here."

"Barton?" Raul asked, moving closer to him and looking around. "Where's Maxwell?"

"His wife is having a mental breakdown and he had to run home to her before the nice men in white jackets showed up. You're damn lucky I was at the Rest when Shin called."

"Is she all right?" Raul asked quickly.

Trowa blinked at him, then grinned slightly. "Right, sarcasm doesn't work..."

"What?"

Trowa grinned at him and gestured with his head for the guy to follow. "She's not _really_ having a mental breakdown, but it was pointed out to her earlier this week that she can _get_ pregnant. She was raised in Angels, and that means that most children are accidents. Being able to plan it is terrifying to her...and I guess she and Jor gave it a try a night or so ago and she was having issues."

Raul blinked at the man, wondering about that.

"Mm, Yuy got married Saturday, right? He got back from honeymoon on Tuesday and the good doctor has a suspicious mind and decided with some infallible loop of logic that a paternity test for Chip was in order–this is where the infallible part comes in. Yuy _is_ Chip's father."

Raul stopped to stare at him.

"We all did that, too," Barton noted in amusement. "They're in a state of lover's bliss so complete that you can see her in his eyes when he's a mile away from her...it's kinda sickening, but I'm not entirely sure if it's jealousy or normal revulsion for love-birds."

Raul grinned, moving to catch up again. "So...back to Chai. Is she all right?"

"Ooh, do you have a crush?" the man teased pleasantly.

"She's not really...bad?" Raul decided to ignore the jibes. He might actually get something useful from the man.

Trowa sniggered and shrugged, pointing out a bag. "That yours?"

"That's...huge...floral...print," Raul couldn't help but respond as he stared at the thing. "It would belong to some little old lady or a woman in her thirties who's all prim and proper."

"Or a younger woman who's deathly embarrassed that she had to borrow it," Tro returned with a shrug. "I was just asking."

Raul blinked at him.

"How about that one?" the guy added, pointing at a brilliantly purple bag that almost seemed to glow.

"Uh...no," Raul muttered. He almost gave the guy a description of his bag, but then realized that Barton was just being obnoxious. He didn't care what bag was really Raul's, and even if it were explained he'd play the game up.

"That's gotta be it," the man added as a beaten up and patched black bag slid against the railing. The thing looked ready to burst open.

"Oh yeah," Raul agreed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Finest Italian leather, hand-crafted by child-labor."

Trowa blinked at him.

"My bag," Raul noted very calmly, "is a mid-sized black suit-case. There are no distinguishing features about it, and it's damned common."

As he'd assumed, every strange bag that slid down the shoot had to be his. Trowa asked repeatedly that simple question that was most definitely designed to irritate the fuck out of him...until his bag did slide down.

Raul stepped forward, noting a pink one following. "That one's gotta be yours," he muttered, nodding at it as he pulled his off.

"Ooh, yeah," Trowa agreed...gathering the thing off the line. "Let's go..."

Raul stared at him as he started...to...walk away. He followed hesitantly, looking around to see if the true owner would notice or not, and started feeling pangs of guilty panic when Trowa headed for the exit with the thing.

"Barton," he hissed, moving forward.

"Oh, calm down," Trowa retorted, though he looked highly amused. He stopped an airport worker then, looking embarrassed. "Excuse me...I feel like an ass...but...this isn't our bag," he indicated the thing. "I forgot we left our pink one at home this trip and only _just_ realized he had ours...I'm so sorry, but..."

The man blinked at him before looking to Raul. The spy was sort of sad that he'd mastered the expressionless response...because he knew the expression was neither confirmation nor denial.

"I feel...I just feel like an ass," Barton repeated, rolling the bag forward. "We have a ride to catch, and I just can't _bear_ taking this back to the terminal...I'm _so_ sorry..." he looked accusingly to Raul.

"Come on, Baby," Raul retorted, rolling his eyes. "I told you to stay with me."

"The last time you said that..." Barton started.

"It woulda..."

"All right!" the worker interrupted quickly, taking the bag from Trowa. "I can take it back...just be more careful next time..."

"Thank you so much," Trowa gushed as he all but fled.

"You are the _king_ of pointless shit," Raul informed him.

"You're the one who confused me, Baby," Trowa retorted...and led the way from the building.

- -

**November 29, A.C. 204. Sion, Switzerland. 5 pm**

Judas was damn tired. He moved across his hotel room and dropped heavily onto his mattress, listening to the voices around him talking.

He wanted to stop hearing German...he really really _did_.

Someone laughed raucously a room over, and he heard a more nervous twitter from someone else.

Great, just what he wanted to hear...

He rolled over onto his side staring across the small room. It was smaller than his apartment, though it didn't have a kitchenette. The lights were a nasty yellow that suggested they'd been cheap, and the tv looked like it was about to explode internally. He clicked that on, noting that the noise level around him wasn't quieting...and switching it to English.

It was probably a stupid idea to do it, but hearing the language was almost refreshing. He made sure to keep it low as he focused on it, taking that _moment_ to turn off his brain.

The pounding on his door made him jump hard.

"What?" he called irritably, using the remote to flick the language over to German.

"Open up, Dead," Alek commanded. "I got some beers."

At least Aleksander wasn't entirely insane.

Judas sighed and climbed off his bed, moving tiredly toward the door and flicking the light on.

"You going to bed already?" the man asked happily, leading the way in with a rather large box of beer and Victor on his heels...and Rasmus...and Kiel. "Shit, man, it's early."

"I'm tired of so many people," he noted half-pointedly. It was lost on the group, though, because they were all Brantley's lackies, meaning that they numbered him amongst themselves so comments like this meant everyone around them.

"Shit, you're tellin' me," Ras agreed, pounding on the wall. "Keep it down over there!"

"Fuck you!" the deeper voice retorted.

"You're already busy," Kiel noted...and they all laughed wickedly.

Judas shut the door, moving to drop on his mattress as the group of them looked interestedly at the television and started to spread out across the room. "Give me one," he suggested, extending his hand.

Alek broke the box opened and passed him a can, then started handing them out. "Cards or darts?"

"Not enough room for darts in this damn place," Victor grumbled, shaking his head. "We play cards, it's not for cash."

"Smokes?" Kiel offered, digging into his pocket for his pack.

"Dead doesn't smoke," Ras reminded him with a roll of the eyes.

"I like to run fast and far," Judas informed him pointedly. "Screw cards, let's pretend we care about the rest of the world for a while."

"Porn?" Alek sat up happily to look them all over.

They all gave him a very level look.

"It's the only thing worth watching, what?" he asked, nonplussed.

Judas laughed and rolled his eyes, turning up the news a click. "The world isn't flat, huh?"

"Isn't it?" Victor asked happily. "I don't believe you. My ancestors sailed off the edge of the world."

"Which...is...why you're here...now," Kiel agreed, giving him a confused look.

Victor grinned back, half-toasting him with his can. "Exactly."

Judas smiled slightly as he drank more of his own can. Really, he didn't mind the group of them so much, it was just the fact that he was completely double-crossing them that had him wary of them. Aside from their black-market business...the whole working for a drug-lord thing...they weren't bad guys.

That wasn't entirely true, but they were entertaining enough to sit around with...so he'd pretend it was true until he couldn't anymore.

Rose colored glasses, right? Make everything pretty in pink.

...even the nasty ass beer.


	17. 17

— 17 —

**December 1, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 3pm**

Danielle considered Riley a long moment in silence before nodding her head once for her agreement.

Riley turned back to the man they were talking to and shrugged slightly. "Impress me."

The man looked them over briefly, then nodded his head and started to walk away. They followed him down a long hall toward the center of the compound almost nervously. There was something about going into enemy territory that seemed a bit nerve-wracking for some reason.

Riley wasn't entirely sure what it was, but something about the area bugged her, and had bugged her since they'd started talking to the man.

"I like...to impress...the ladies," the man noted as he slowed near an end door with a wicked smile.

Alarms sounded in Riley's head. That smile wasn't right–not even for a sexual joke.

Danielle grabbed Riley's arm lightly.

"So let me show you pretty ladies my pretty guns," he added in...Italian.

The moment stood still before the man threw the door open...and the man Danielle had bought her guns from moved from the room with one of the weapons in his hands...with about five guys behind him.

Danielle froze...but Riley knew they didn't have the time for that. She turned to one of the floor to ceiling windows and kicked it solidly with her steel-toed boot...and it shattered.

She seriously thanked Jordan for that one...or whatever _other_ god was looking out for her...and yanked Danielle with her from the building.

It almost seemed like a movie when the gunshots started following them and they both ran full out toward the end of the building across the way from them. She could hear the man who'd been talking to them shouting about bad-shots and defective men before they reached the sanctuary the end of the building held, slowing enough to look around the edge before running directly at the wall.

"Riley!" Danielle protested.

"You can't jump it?" Riley demanded of her, feeling her stomach churn. At any given moment, the men would come into _range_...and there were too many of them for the two of them to take on alone.

"I need more of a run," Danielle noted, backing up...as someone spotted her back. Riley jumped the wall herself, using some skills her older brother had taught her in their youth as Danielle made her longer approach. Riley had to catch her and give her a hand up at the end...

They tumbled off the wall as the man went a little irate, and Riley yanked Danielle after her into traffic as the cars squealed to a halt, honking and swerving...which ended up causing a large SUV to slam into a larger SUV directly behind them.

Riley was almost starting to believe in Maxwell's divinity as she darted straight down the road across from them with Danielle's hand firmly in hers.

"Damn," Danielle hissed as people started shouting behind them, yelling at each other about the accidents that had happened...before there were cries of alarms and shots.

"Come _on_!" Riley squeaked at her friend, running across that road to the far side...a one-way street.

She hailed a taxi quickly, and the driver pulled over casually, looking at the back-up in that block of road.

"What's going on over there?" he muttered, not seeming to expect a response.

"Two SUVs hit each other," Danielle explained. "There were plenty of other witnesses, can we get out of here?"

"Oh sure," the man muttered, giving her an amused look as he put the car into gear and melded back into traffic.

Riley focused back on her curiously. "You calling Maxwell, or am I?"

"We could both do it together," Danielle offered.

"No...let's...not," she returned, pulling out her phone.

- -

**December 1, A.C. 204. Base. 12:10am**

"Hello?" Jordan muttered tiredly as Chai blinked at him in confusion.

"Ohmigod, Jordan," Riley returned...and promptly went into a one-long-word story about...

"Wait, wait," Jordan cut her off, pretty sure he had all the details. "You were _shot_ at?"

Chai sat up.

"Yes, and I kicked the window and we _ran_," she returned.

"Where _are_ you?" Jordan demanded, moving toward his kitchen as Quatre moved from his room with nervous and tired eyes.

"We're heading away," she returned, taking a shaking breath. "We got a taxi."

Jordan blinked, realizing that she was speaking Spanish. It hadn't occurred to him, but it sort of explained why everything she said seemed to be one damn long word. "All right, are you safe?"

"For now," she returned. "I can't tell if we're being followed."

"All right," Jor muttered. "Head toward the Tiffan building." She muttered those instructions to someone else, and he heard an English confirmation.

And _that_ really explained it.

Jordan typed his pass-code into the keypad of the vid as Riley's breathing calmed again.

"Tiffan Verien Building," a woman said happily, giving him an interested look. "How may I direct your call, sir?"

"I need to talk to Marcher, now," he returned.

"I'm sorry," she started, "but you'll have to be put on..."

Jordan gave her a look and typed in the over-ride code. Her screen popped up the extensions chart, and he entered the one he needed as her eyes and mouth rounded. She was probably realizing who he was...or how serious he was.

...Marcher turned to focus on his vid in complete disbelief...before he realized it was Jor and he sat up. Not too many people could connect to a vid without the recipient hitting the accept button.

"My girls are coming in," Jordan noted pointedly. "Riley, tell your driver not to stop, and to run anyone down who gets in the way."

"Easy, Maxwell," Marcher protested quickly. "I can put the call out..."

"We don't have _time_," Jordan hissed at him.

"What vehicle?"

"A taxi," Jor returned as Riley muttered to the now startled sounding driver. "The driver has nothing to do with it, but he doesn't deserve to die for this when he's just doing his job."

Marcher nodded, his phone already in hand as the man he'd been speaking with gave Jordan an extremely curious look.

"Oh, shit," Riley said in an almost deadpan voice...and there was the sound of a crash.

"Riley?" Jordan demanded, focusing on his cell phone as Marcher looked to him in concern. "Mae? Damn it, Mae..."

The line went dead.

Jordan felt his stomach turn inside out as he looked up to Marcher.

The man was already leaving the room.

- -

**December 1, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 9pm**

Danielle wasn't moving.

"You all right?" Riley whispered as she hunkered down next to her friend.

"I'm fine," Danielle whispered back.

They'd climbed up a series of fire escapes to get onto a damn high roof and were hiding beside an air vent with a little bit of overhang. They didn't think the men had helicopters, but they had to remind themselves that this was a _seriously_ international group.

"Your back all right?" Riley persisted, studying her friend. "Your neck?"

"I'm a little sore, but all right."

"If you go into shock I'm seriously going to kick your ass," Riley snapped back.

"Don't be annoying," Danielle grumbled, giving her a look. "I'm nervous about it just being us," she explained. "If we even had...Mouthy, I mean..."

"You don't trust me?" Riley returned, giving her an amused look. "You don't seem to be thinking on your feet, love. That's not a good thing."

"I really...it blindsided me," Danielle returned, running her hands over her eyes. "I noticed you were tense, but I didn't really pick up on much."

Riley considered her a moment and rested back against the vent, closing her eyes. "I'm tired."

"I hope the driver's all right," Danielle noted for the umpteenth time.

"I hope so, too," Riley agreed. "We were hit damn hard, though."

"I wish we could have checked on him."

"Dwelling won't do a damn thing," Riley retorted. "I'm more upset about my phone...and yours."

"I thought it was in my pocket," Danielle repeated.

Riley sighed, looking around the overcast sky. "Do you suppose it'll rain?"

"This is the dry season," the other looked up as well. "That doesn't mean much, really, but it shouldn't."

"Should we get a motel?"

"How much money you have?"

"I suppose we can find a shit inn," Riley returned, pulling out her wallet. "I wish we could get our clothes from ours," she added, studying the keycard for their hotel room.

"I wonder how they knew we were here," the change of topic seemed to brighten the girl's mood somewhat.

"I think they were just _here_," Riley returned, pulling out her cash. It wasn't terribly cold, but she almost wished she had full gloves instead of the half-gloves. She wasn't going to dwell on the fact that she'd cut the fingers off herself, either.

"How far away do you think they are?"

"They're probably damn near," Riley returned. "We didn't get much of a lead on them. I'd almost say we should go to the cops, but I'd rather just get back to the Tiffan building."

"Jor's resources could be looking for us," Danielle mused.

"Purple flare," Riley returned dismissively. "You read the op notes didn't you?"

"What notes?"

Riley scratched briefly at an eyebrow as she started tucking her money away again. "You didn't read it? You're a dumb ass. Did you read the Italy ones?"

"_What_ op notes?" Danielle persisted, giving her a blank note.

Riley stared at her, then smacked a hand to her forehead.

"What?" Danielle sat up. "What are you on about?"

"Jordan slips the parameters of the game in with the tickets and mission form."

"But...I've never seen them," she protested.

"You probably throw it away with the damn form," Riley grumbled, sitting back and looking back up to the clouds. "If we're in danger and Jordan has notified them, they'll try to repress the threat and send up a purple flare to guide us in."

Danielle sat up and looked around, realizing why her friend had insisted on the tallest building they could find.

"Is that always it?"

"No, in Italy it was a spot-light...one of those ones that goes in circles at the sky...I forget the ones before that, but he always has them listed."

"Now I feel stupid."

"Just look next time," Riley suggested, moving closer to her. "I hope it doesn't get colder."

"It's not so bad," Danielle considered a moment. "I think it's still around seventy."

"Which is cool enough to be sleeping in the open," Riley agreed dryly. "We don't have any blankets, remember? I don't have enough money for a room if we're going to eat again, and I don't dare go exploring now. I think we'll be safe for tonight."

Danielle nodded, leaning more against the other as she blinked across the rooftops, then sighed. "I wish we could have checked on him."

- -

**December 1, A.C. 204. Base. 6am**

Jordan rubbed tiredly at his eyes as he sat waiting on the couch, his cell phone directly beside him on the cushion.

Five damn hours...they'd completely disappeared for more than five whole hours.

He was almost reassured to know that there hadn't been any corpses at the wreck site. The driver of the taxi was in the hospital, but his condition wasn't even considered serious...but if they'd just _call_...

Granted, Riley's cell phone had been killed in the accident. Danielle's wasn't dead, but it had been laying on the ground. Marcher had also went ahead and gathered the girls' stuff from their hotel room and left a few men in case they returned, or the mobsters did.

He felt bad, really, because the girls' little exploit had set off some heavy gang violence throughout Manoi.

But if they _had_ them, there wouldn't be that violence, right? They'd have called if they wanted a ransom.

He already knew what he was going to do now, because he hadn't liked the idea of his girls alone, and he really didn't like the idea of his girls on the run without the guys.

He headed for his room to tell his wife...because he was going to Vietnam on the fastest damn flight he could manage.


	18. 18

— 18 —

**December 1, A.C. 204. Base. 7am**

"What are you doing?" Wufei asked Chai curiously as she moved into Jordan's office. "Where's Jor?"

"Heading to Vietnam right about now," Chai returned, giving him a worried look. Jordan had chased her back to bed after his call with Riley had been cut, but he'd woken her up around six to tell her he couldn't believe he'd waited as long as he had to go, and that his flight left at seven.

Wufei stared at her.

"Morning, lovely," Chance called happily as he moved along the hall toward the offices as well. "What news?" Wufei turned to look at him, which made him fall quiet and look back to the female. "Why did Jordan leave just after six this morning?"

"Oh, god," Quatre muttered as he stepped into the hall. "Chai...I can't be with you like this..."

"Sorry, Quatre," she returned, focusing on her emotions.

"What's going on?" Trowa asked, then smiled. "Morning, lovely."

Chai gave him a vaguely amused look, then gestured for them to follow.

"Jordan got a call from Riley this morning," Quatre started to explain as they complied.

"She's all right, isn't she?" Wufei asked quickly. "And Danielle?"

Really, though, his stomach was taking a dive.

Jordan wouldn't be _**going**_ to Vietnam if they were fine...

"Chai?" he appealed, realizing he was losing his emotional control.

"I'm shielded," Quatre reassured him, dropping into one of the chairs.

"The people they were meeting with," Chai explained, moving to sit in her husband's seat. "The man who sold Danielle her weapons cache was there."

Wufei's heart started to fold in on itself.

Were they dead?

"They ran," Quatre noted, looking up to him with tired eyes. "They got away...were in a taxi...and then there was a loud noise and the connection dropped." He studied Wufei a long moment in silence, then smiled very slightly. "No one's been reported dead yet, Wufei. Jordan just can't bear the thought of the girls being chased around Manoi."

"That flight is damn long, though," Trowa protested. "It'll take him...at _least_ fifteen hours."

"And hopefully the girls will be safe," Quatre agreed. "Until then...that's all we know."

Wufei moved backwards to lean against the wall, his heart beating incredibly fast.

"I thought I could work today," Quatre noted, looking back to the desk himself. "But I don't think I can...not really. Wufei? Take me home?"

"What about Chai?" Wufei protested, looking up to her.

"She gets to pick up his work and tell Une what he's doing," Quatre returned, rubbing his eyes. "I knew he'd speed there, pussycat," Quatre added, looking up to her. "Did you speed back?"

"I wasn't paying attention," Chai returned. "We only barely got him there for his check in time."

"Does Raul know? Who's monitoring the house phone?" Wufei added, looking around.

"His calls are all to his cell," Chai reassured him. "There are specific set up times for them to call the vid, and they aren't for another few days."

"You know it all, don't you?" Chance asked, studying her seriously.

"Living date-book," Quatre agreed, smiling wanly at her as he stood. "Wufei, take me home."

"Cat, I'm not emotionally stable right now," Wufei protested.

"You can't work today either," Quatre reassured him. "You take me home and go back to your place. We leave Chance and Tro to clean up the leavings and hope for the best."

"I don't like that plan," Trowa noted, raising one hand.

Quatre gave him an amused smile, then left the room.

"Go," Chance ordered Wufei, who'd hesitated.

Wufei disappeared.

"Do you need me for anything?" he added to Chai seriously. "Is there something here that I can do?"

"Tell Une for me," she suggested, starting to gather up papers for his briefcase. "You don't need to do anything for me," she added, meeting his eyes when he started to move. "I know how it all works well enough to figure this out."

Trowa sighed, moving around the desk and lifting up the phone. He typed in the code to direct all calls to his own office, then shook his head and dropped the receiver back into the cradle. "That's that, you get his vid," he pointed at Chance, then turned and started from the room. "I'll get the phones."

"Can't you type the codes in for me?" Chance demanded almost irritably of him.

"No, because I'm only taking some of the work left for them and you get the rest. We have a busy day, Chance. Don't quibble."

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Fuzhou, China. 11pm**

Xane smiled at the little old lady berating him for waking her up when he moved through the gate, but didn't respond. If he argued with her, all hell would break loose. He started up the stairs, then stopped and turned to look at her. "It won't happen again," he promised in Mandarin, then turned to take the things two at a time.

She hadn't been sleeping anyway, he could still hear her damn tv, and her husband was dead.

He shook his head as he pulled out the keys to his apartment. He'd met a pretty little female who'd been quite distracting, and he seriously needed to head on toward bed.

One thing he appreciated about the apartment buildings was that they weren't the best, but they were well insulated. It wasn't very cold yet anyway, but the insulation kept his electricity bill _that_ much lower...and the sound that much quieter, actually. He didn't really hear his neighbors, and that was kinda nice after the shit-hole he'd been in back in Spain.

His cell started vibrating.

Xane frowned, pulling it out to see Jordan's name, raising to his ear. "Yeah, boss-man?"

"There was an incident in Vietnam," Jordan returned quietly. "In a manner of speaking, Mae and Duvall are missing in action. I'm on the plane now and will get there in several more hours. Be ready to fly if I have to call you."

"Yes, sir," Xane returned, sobering up. "And the others?"

"Ifhera is in Switzerland until the fourth his time. Jaem is on base."

"Do you want me to come?" he asked quietly, wondering at the formality. Jordan didn't normally refer to them as only last names.

"Negative," Jordan said seriously. "Go about your business as normal, but I might need you to run before I can get there. Confirm."

"Yes, sir," Xane said firmly, blinking as he realized that Jordan was _on_ a plane calling from his cell phone. He probably had someone standing over him tapping their foot.

"Keep your phone on you at all times, Mouthy," he said in a slightly softer tone. "Be safe."

"And you," Xane agreed, making sure his apartment door was locked as the line went dead. He closed his phone with a frown, then moved across the room and flicked on his laptop.

First things first. If he had to run, he needed a map to run _with_. He was the closest to the girls at this point...and with a god's permission he'd damn well _fly_, laws of nature be damned.

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 4:30pm**

"What's the status?" Jordan demanded unceremoniously as he stormed into the meeting room in the Tiffan building as the men scrambled to their feet to salute. "Don't waste my time!" he half shouted at them, which made them all jump hard, guilty.

"Welcome to Manoi, General Maxwell," Marcher noted quietly, offering his hand as Jordan neared. "I wish the circumstances were more favorable, however."

"Don't waste my time," Jordan repeated quietly.

"No news," Marcher returned. "We're still running into marauding bandits, though, so that's almost telling."

Jordan moved forward to look at the map of the city that was laid across the table with tacks and string arranging a strange pattern across it. There were at least a hundred single pins sticking out of one section. "Explain this," he ordered.

"The roads," the man noted, plucking one of the strings. "They're wider and newer and provide natural boundaries. It's easier to search this way than a grid search. The pins are men."

"One pin denotes?"

"One man, sir," the guy said quietly. "But these men aren't normal officers."

Jordan looked up to him speculatively.

"We're here," Marcher added quickly, pointing at a larger red pin. "The accident was here," he added, indicating a blue pin. "Their starting point is here," he added, pointing a green pin. "This is their hotel they'd been staying at," he added, indicating a purple.

"And this?" Jordan pointed at a pink one.

"Where they were possibly spotted this afternoon," the man shrugged. "Unfortunately, they fled and disappeared before visual confirmation could be made."

Jordan considered the map himself, thinking over what the group had done in Angels. For their first run, he'd gone into details with them about hiding spots and various approaches for your destination. If the mafia idiots knew that the Tiffan building was a spy source center, they'd have it guarded. If they didn't and the girls made straight for it, it would become obvious to them...both suggested a roundabout route to get to the building if the girls actually knew where it was.

So would they know?

He couldn't tell for sure, because he didn't test them on the information he gave them later. He assumed they'd see it all and memorize it all, but he hadn't pointed any of it out to them...meaning this was his fault, not entirely their bad...but no less annoying.

"Sir?" Marcher asked, almost concerned. "Maybe you should sleep."

"I slept on my flight," he retorted, raising his phone and showing it to the man. "I need a charged battery. I'm going to change, have it for me." He wrote the model of his phone down, then turned and left the room as the men stood to salute him again.

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 7pm**

"Are you sure we're high enough?" Danielle muttered to her friend as they looked over the city-top. There were a few taller buildings, but they were far enough away to make them more a danger to get to than a help.

"We can't exactly get higher unless you want to get spotted again," Riley retorted, pacing back and forth across the roof they were on. They'd changed locations earlier in the day, and while buying blankets from a store in case they needed it for the night, a man in a black leather jacket had stopped and looked at them before smiling...and it hadn't been a normal sort of smile. It had been cocky and arrogant, and the sunglasses hadn't helped. They'd run for it when he'd tried to raise them, and he'd started to chase after. It had taken them a while to lose the guy, and now that they'd been able to eat, Riley was starting to think they'd run from a friend, not an enemy.

It was damn hard to tell, though. It'd be easier if the mafia stuck to their own racial stock and didn't gather up the locals.

...that made a helluva lot of sense, she needed to write a piece on it and submit it to the mafia council so they could see her reason and change the way things had ran for centuries.

She shook her head irritably.

"What do you think Jor is doing now?" Danielle muttered quietly.

"Pacing."

"Just because you are doesn't necessarily mean he is. Come on, Rile. Let's make a break for it and head for Tiffan."

Riley looked longingly in the direction of the building. They'd circled the city in their run, so they were on the far side as the headquarters they'd been in...but it was still beyond the taller buildings.

"We have to go in some time," Danielle noted pointedly. "We can get a taxi and run straight in, right?"

"Last time we did that, it nearly killed a man...at least I hope that's all it did."

Danielle looked away.

"I know we can't wait here forever," Riley added after a moment, looking around. "We have to get in somewhere and get someone to drive us. Maybe someone in this building," she added, looking down.

"Rile," Danielle muttered, pointing toward the tall building. "What does green mean?"

Riley looked up, spotting the green line of smoke.

"Is that an all clear?"

"No," Riley returned. "I don't know what it is...I don't recognize it."

Danielle rose to her feet, moving closer to it as she thought. "What if they didn't have any purple?"

"It's a government source building," Riley returned dryly. "They'd have every color they needed."

Another line of purple smoke shot straight up beside the first.

"What is it that Jordan says about the directions?" Danielle asked quietly. "West is orange, blue is south..."

"North is white and east is green!" Riley agreed excitedly, looking to her friend.

"So we come in from the east?" Danielle hazarded, looking around.

"I'm not so sure," Riley returned, biting her lip. "But that green means _something_."

"Let's just...try and go in," Danielle muttered quietly. "The purple was our signal anyway, regardless of the green."

"We aren't the only ones who can see that," Riley reminded her.

"Look at it this way, Riley," Danielle said dryly, looking up to her. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't."

Riley snorted at that, then looked down at the bag of stuff they'd collected. "We can at least head closer, huh?"

"Shit, why not?" Danielle muttered, shrugging as she leaned down to get the bag. "First blood sleeps with Mouthy."

"Why are you encouraging me to get shot?" Riley asked blankly.

Danielle gave her a level, but amused, look.

Riley flashed her a grin in return, considering the nearly dissipated smoke signals. "I think first blood stands forward for the lecture."

The other flinched appreciatively.

"Right, it's a deal," Riley noted, and started for the ladder.

"I'm gonna rescind my comment and say that the bad guys _can't_ find us."

"Yeah, and Xane is an innocent giggling virgin," Riley agreed dryly as she disappeared down the side. "Let's go, lady. We have a long way to go yet."

"Shit, Riley," Danielle situated the bag she was carrying better. "What's one more day?"

"One more night," Riley returned wryly.

Danielle grinned, and started down the fire escape.

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 9pm**

"So maybe taking the public bus _was_ a bad idea," Danielle confided happily in Riley as they ran down another alleyway. "We knew they'd get us eventually."

"I don't understand why you're so damn chipper about this," Riley retorted as they turned and ran down another alley. "Sure, we're closer, but so are _they_."

"I gave the blanket and food to a kid on the street corner...one of those squatting in the corner kinds. It might help him, you know?"

Riley laughed at that as they came up to a wall. They looked around a moment, then jumped almost in unison for the fire escape ladder just above their head. Riley missed, but Danielle was smaller in stature and managed to grab ahold of it, so Riley grabbed ahold of her and hauled her down.

They heard the men chasing them coming nearer and darted up the thing. The back and forth nature of the fire escapes bugged them both, because it meant that half the time they were within range to get shot...but it wasn't exactly a tall building, and Danielle was just clearing the edge of the roof as the men turned into the alley.

"We had quite the lead goin' there for a while," Riley noted, looking around before pointing to a neighboring building. It was higher, but the fire escapes on either side meant they could jump it.

"I feel like a damn monkey," Danielle agreed as they darted for the thing...and flew though the air.

"Hey, let's go in," Riley whispered when she saw an open window.

"And start a riot? We'll get the poor people killed."

"Damn your logic," Riley retorted...and went over the building.

"We need to go down again," Danielle noted, realizing that the rest of the buildings were higher. "Get back to ground level and take a taxi a few blocks, huh?"

"All right," Riley agreed...and jumped to the next building that was a story or so lower.

Danielle hissed irritably as she followed her friend. Behind her, she could hear the men arguing about taking the alley or following like they had gone.

She doubted _they_ could make the jumps, actually.

"My body is going to hate me if I'm alive tomorrow," Riley noted as they started down another fire escape. The girl hesitated though, looking at the stairs distastefully...before flipping to the outside of the railing and dropping down a level.

"If we're still alive tomorrow _I'm_ going to hate you," Danielle noted...and followed suit.

"Oh, come on," Riley protested as she slid on to the final platform and guided her friend down. "As long as we can hear and not see them, this is damn adrenaline."

Danielle laughed her agreement, and they both stepped onto the ladder so it extended toward the ground.

She had to agree for now, but she wasn't so sure she would come morning.


	19. 19

— 19 —

**December 2, A.C. 204. Base. 7am**

Chai frowned as she poured herself a cup of coffee, then blew on it studying the vid. Jordan had called just after one in the morning to let her know he was there safely and that they were starting a plan to signal the pair of spies in. She'd been sleeping before the call, and now that it was...ten at night there, she wondered if he'd gotten anything done at all. He'd seemed disheartened when she'd talked to him, but that couldn't mean too much.

He'd trained them in Angels, there couldn't be much worse than that...could there?

Her imagination shuddered away from that idea.

She moved into her bedroom again, making sure her cell phone was still in the pocket of her pajamas. Quatre had gotten up and gone to work already, so she was free to worry and be antsy without interference...but she wasn't entirely sure she appreciated it.

She'd like it very much if her husband would call and say that they'd found the girls already...

Chai wasn't good with the whole waiting thing...anxiety frequently got the best of her.

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 10:30pm**

"You're making my leg ache," Marcher noted tiredly to Jordan as he leaned against the guard building on the east side of the compound. "Stop pacing like that."

"I don't like to wait, Sergeant," Jordan returned, shifting his grip on his weapon. "It puts me in a foul mood."

"You're making me nervous," the guy retorted. Considering that they'd been head to head for the past five hours, Jordan didn't take the irritation in the tone personally.

"I have two people in the field," Jordan snapped, turning back to him. "They were tested once under true conditions in an entirely different setting."

"Trial by fire," the man reassured him. "No better way to get a good man..."

"Or get a good man killed," Jordan retorted.

"So little faith in people you trained yourself?" the guy actually sounded startled.

"No, it's called fear," Jordan retorted. "My five are my right hand...I'm damn fond of my right hand."

"I thought you had a wife."

Jordan snorted at that.

"I'm sorry!" the guy said quickly, straightening. "That was completely out of bounds..."

Jordan flashed him an amused look.

The guy studied him nervously, realizing he wasn't actually offended.

"What'd you do if two of your fingers were cut off?"

"Not shoot so well, depending on the fingers," the guy hazarded.

"Good one," Jordan confirmed. "For all that they'd be more like these fingers," he showed the guy his pinky and ring finger. "Important for detailed work."

The guy grinned slightly at that, moving a little closer. "Can you calm down?"

"Not very likely, no," Jordan returned, though he did stop and turn to look down the road.

"What...can I do something for you?" Marcher asked quickly. "Tea? Coffee? Food?"

"I'd probably puke if I put anything but water in my stomach," Jordan returned distantly. "Send up another purple flare...no, better yet, get your street teams to light up their bracelets. It's dark enough that if the girls are out they'll see them."

"But will they know them," the man returned. "They ran from my guy earlier."

"They're being searched for by the enemy," Jordan noted darkly. "They'll recognize it as long as the guys drew what I told them to."

"As much as they understood verbally," the man agreed.

"Bring them in from the outer limits, too," Jordan suggested. "If we have more men nearer us, the more there'll be to throw the enemy off."

"Sir, what is this enemy?" the guy asked quietly. "I have rank to do things, but not rank to read an SPC file from a three star."

"International arms smuggling," Jordan returned. "Mafia style black market bullshit."

"That's special enough for a three star?" the man sounded surprised.

"The arms are from the wars," Jordan noted. "There's an entire unit of mecha unaccounted for, and the weapons we've been bringing in from these guys are from the same area."

"What area?"

"Chile," Jordan noted, turning to look at him.

"Chile?" the guy demanded. "But we're in Vietnam."

"Maybe international is too succinct a way to put it," Jordan mused, looking back to the road. "Try global...trans global. Every country, no matter how tiny, every continent...everywhere big enough to have black market access."

Marcher was staring at him.

"Light up the bracelets, Sergeant," Jordan ordered, not quite turning to look at him. "I have a couple ladies in the city that I'd like home before the new day." He looked back to the road properly as Marcher started away. "Witching hour is a little too nigh for me to chance the sacrifice."

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 11pm**

"I can't wait to get back home," Riley whispered to Danielle. "I can't wait to call him."

"I wonder what Wufei thinks," Danielle returned. They'd lost their immediate pursuers, but they weren't going to put any bets on that one...especially with the rain that had started falling fifteen minutes or so before.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and the roll of thunder was a breath later.

"Wonderful," Danielle noted, extending her hand palm upwards.

"Just keep walking," Riley suggested as they turned down another road...where they could see a man standing against a building. "Watch out," she muttered, noting his focus on her.

"What is that?" Danielle returned, focusing on a glowing band at the man's wrist. It was a dark color of green...and there was something drawn on it.

"I don't know, new fashion trend," Riley hissed back, starting to turn down an alley.

"No, Rile," Danielle caught the girl's arm. There was something familiar about that.

"Duvall?" the man asked, looking between them. "Mae?"

They both stopped.

The guy extended the bracelet...to show something that was like Jordan's crest...sort of.

They hesitated more.

"Maxwell says he needs his ladies in before the rain ruins their hair," the guy added.

"Who are you?" Riley asked, narrowing her eyes. He was definitely Asian, though they were in an Asian country so that was far from telling.

"My name is Zuey," he returned, "with the V.N.S.."

V.N.S. Vietnamese National Security officers. Riley let down her guard some.

"What do you mean, Maxwell said he needed his ladies before the rain? How would he know it's raining?"

"He's been pacing the east gate for three or four hours now," Zuey returned, moving closer to them. He frowned, considering the bracelet a moment. "I didn't get it right, did I? He said to draw two eyes...what did he mean?"

"Have you ever seen a Gundam?" Riley asked, then frowned. "What do you mean, pacing it for three hours?"

That was just about the right timing for the flares.

"I flew an MS in the wars," the guy noted, frowning slightly at them.

"Colony boy?" Danielle demanded.

"Does it matter?" the guy looked between them in disbelief. "What does it matter? Can we go? I seriously don't feel like playing sharpshooter on a public street when the jackasses find you again."

"Wait...Jordan is _here_?" Riley demanded.

"He got here around four," the guy agreed, moving even closer. "He's damned worried about the two of you."

"Show me that," Danielle ordered, pointing at the bracelet.

The guy sighed in slight exasperation and removed the thing, tossing it to her.

"What's up, Zuey?" another guy demanded, moving around the corner...then stopped. "Holy shit..."

"Don't come too close," Zuey noted without turning his head. "Show them the band."

"They aren't that trigger happy, are they?" the man demanded, stopping next to him. He did, however, show his own bracelet. "Shisu, V.N.S.," he added.

Riley pointed warningly at Zuey, then looked to Shisu. "What do you say?"

Shisu looked to Zuey briefly, noting his blank expression, then shrugged. "Maxwell told us to put these on, that when you saw them you'd come with us. Why?" he flashed the image on his band at them. "Something about eyes and claws."

"He didn't say claws," Zuey gave him a semi-disgusted look. "It was without flaws."

Riley and Danielle looked to each other.

"What the hell would _that_ even mean?" Shisu retorted. "He said with claws." He shook his head, then pointed up the road. "I saw some of those chasers up there a ways. Whatever you're doing, you'll want to be getting away from here."

Danielle looked sharply to Riley.

"What was his message?" Riley asked Shisu.

"Message? That shit about his ladies getting their hair wet?" he rolled his eyes, looking up to the clouds. "He's in full battle dress at the east entrance muttering about their _hair_ when the goddamn uniform is twenty on it's own...with_out_ the firearm."

"What color are his eyes?" Riley asked, narrowing her own at him.

"Blue," Shisu returned, giving her a confused look.

"They're _purple_," Zuey retorted, giving him another look. "You didn't even see him."

"I've seen pictures of him, his eyes are blue," the guy retorted.

"I shook his _hand_, and I say they're _purple_," Zuey retorted.

"Whatever," Shisu seemed annoyed by that, moving toward the girls. "Let's go."

"That wouldn't have been all he said to you," Danielle noted, looking between them.

Shisu focused on her, then obviously started thinking.

"He said he wanted some tea or something," Zuey hazarded. "Something about chai and being upset..."

"Chai is his _wife_," Riley noted, rolling her eyes.

Both men stopped and looked at each other.

"Aren't you supposed to be spies or something?" she demanded of them. "Don't you know verbatim?"

"I think that was bad grammar?" Shisu offered.

Riley gave him a very level look, then looked to Danielle.

Danielle studied the eyes drawn on the green bracelet, then looked up to her friend and shrugged, offering it over.

She didn't think the mafia assholes would get that subtle in their machinations. They didn't seem patient enough to find out _that_ much about Jordan himself.

Riley considered the bracelet herself a moment, then nodded her agreement.

There was too much information for it to just be a coincidence.

They started down the alley as a car turned behind them...and Shisu shoved them both against the wall, stopping in front of Zuey as the car slowed and stopped at the alley entrance.

The window rolled down and an Asian guy poked his head out and rambled off in some Asian language.

That was great...it seemed damned short sighted not to tell one from the other.

Shisu responded irritably, gesturing with something in his hand. The guy in the car retorted, and they argued for a handful of minutes as Shisu started to grow increasingly more agitated.

"Fine, I believe you," the guy snapped in English. "What the hell are you even doing?"

"That's my business," Shisu retorted with a suddenly horrible accent. "Get the fuck out of here."

The man considered him a moment, then rolled up the window. It took several more moments for the car to pull away.

"Come on," Zuey suggested. "It shouldn't take them too long to figure out we don't have anything. My van is up there," he pointed.

"And we're going where?" Riley asked nervously, moving quickly to the indicated vehicle.

"Tiffan Verien," Shisu responded without the accent. "Straight for the east gate."

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Manoi, Vietnam. 11:20pm**

Jordan noted one of the dark green vans moving toward the gates and narrowed his eyes as it stopped...and didn't turn. It pulled carefully up to him, and he noted one of the men he'd shaken hands with earlier.

Did he have them?

The gate guard let the man through, and Jordan followed the van as it moved behind the thick stonewalls...and two more heads popped up.

His heart jumped slightly as one of the forms moved to the door and the van stopped abruptly. The driver was protesting at someone...as the door slid open.

"Jordan!" Riley squeaked, darting from the machine to _throw_ herself into his arms...and start to cry. A moment later, Danielle had joined as well, both crying hard into his chest.

"So much for the safety of the building," the passenger noted in vague amusement, sliding from the van to study them.

"They were only gone a few hours when he decided to _fly_ here," the driver noted, also moving around to join them. "I'd have to be missing at least twenty four hours before my superiors thought to come after me."

"If the way they're crying means anything," the passenger said quietly, "then they probably weren't ready for this."

Jordan gave him a very sad look as Riley calmed herself back down, pulling away to smile weakly up at him.

"You all right, pussycat?" he asked quietly.

"Don't call me that," she returned, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry...it was just damn stressful."

"You did it, though," Jordan reminded her. "You got back."

"Only because they showed up," she returned, looking disheartened as she gestured at the two men.

"What? My resources in Manoi?" Jordan asked curiously. "You're supposed to rely on them."

Riley blinked at him, then noted that Danielle was still crying.

"Come on," Jor suggested gently to the girl, starting her for the van. "Let's get inside."

"Dude," the passenger muttered when they got nearer to him. "His eyes _are_ purple!"

Jordan looked up to him in disbelief.

"That's wicked," the guy noted, moving in closer to look at him. "And with the lights and shit," he gestured behind himself. "Man...can I?" he asked, pulling out his cell phone.

"For what?" Jordan returned skeptically.

"He's an artist," the driver noted dryly. "It'll find itself into some great work of art."

"Just one, huh?" the guy persisted, bouncing slightly. "I know it's weird...but I have this _idea_..."

"If you don't do it," the driver noted, "he'll get into one of those artist slumps and go run around on a binge trying to find someone else with purple eyes."

"And why should that sway me?" Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Standing still for three seconds so he can get this picture of your eyes, or him losing his damn mind for the next year because of it," the man retorted.

"Just do it," Riley muttered irritably. "I want to get showered and in clean clothes."

Jordan snorted, looking to her a moment, then nodded once at the artist.

The guy beamed at him, but had evidently made his camera ready in the interim. He snapped the shot almost instantly, then grinned happily at the result before turning it...to show Jordan an image of his own eye that was a severe mix of light and shadow...which actually looked kinda neat.

He blinked.

"Come on," the driver suggested. "He's going to be manic for the next few hours before he can get that onto his computer...let's just...go."

"How did you do that?" Jordan asked, climbing carefully in and adjusting Danielle accordingly as she continued to cling to him.

"There are lights all over out here," the guy returned, his eyes bright as he looked back at Jordan. "And the way you were standing and the way your hair was...I would have died if you'd have _moved_."

Jordan gave him an amused look.

"Hm, by the way," the driver noted, looking back to him...and saluting.

The passenger's jaw dropped as he realized what he'd just done, and he went rigid as he saluted respectfully...and melted into his seat.

"Shisu, he forgets the rank tags all the time," Riley noted, moving to lean against her superior. "You don't have to be mortified."

"I'll do it all the same," the guy returned.

Jordan grinned very slightly, looking to...a bracelet Danielle was holding. He pulled it from her and studied the eyes on it before looking to Riley in confusion.

She indicated the driver with a shrug.

"I said...eyes with a fog," Jordan noted, looking between them. "Didn't you understand me?"

Riley started laughing as she clung to his arm...funny, how comforting one man could be...like a father or a brother...a lover. Jordan was none of that, but his mere presence was confidence and protection.

She was damn glad he hadn't decided to wait twenty some odd hours to go find her...she liked it better that he was _present_.

- -

E/N: I meant to update last night, sorry about that. I couldn't get logged in.


	20. 20

— 20 —

**December 2, A.C. 204. Base. 8:30am**

"Jordan?" Chai asked quickly, resting the phone against her ear.

"Hey, baby," Jordan said in a tired sort of voice. "I seem to have found some strays. Can I take them home with me?"

"I don't know, are they flea-ridden?" she returned, feeling relief drain through her.

"They don't look like it," Jordan muttered. "We can take them to the vet and check."

"Hey!" Riley protested in the background, sounding vaguely amused.

"I'll have to think about it," Chai noted, dropping onto one of the stools. "There's a shelter here anyway."

Jordan started laughing his true laugh, he usually laughed like that for her, but not around other people. "Oh, shit, baby," he muttered, losing the playful air. "They came in about ten minutes ago with some of my resources...they're both fine, but Danielle is upset...you brought my notes home, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed, moving toward the bedroom and the briefcase of stuff she'd gathered.

"Pull out the blue grid front one," he said. "It's got notes in it...find Danielle's and write severe stress factor under the variable heading."

Chai pulled that out, opening it up and blinking at her husband's scrawl. It wasn't exactly untidy, it was clear enough, but...

"What's up?" Quatre asked, moving into the room properly to give her an alarmed look.

"Ten minutes ago," she explained, setting the notebook on the counter and starting to flip through the pages as she passed the man the phone. She hadn't heard him come in, but his presence didn't startle her.

"Can you help her?" Jordan asked his friend quietly. "My hand writing isn't exactly neat."

"What is she looking for?" Quatre returned, moving to stand behind her and read over her shoulder. Jordan repeated the information, and Quatre noted that Chai had found Danielle's page and was using her finger to read the headings.

It was...sort of slow.

"Her reading level isn't too great, so it will take her a second...point out the variable factors heading for her."

Quatre blinked and pointed at the list.

"Ooh, thanks," Chai said happily, focusing on writing her husband's words.

Her handwriting looked like a teenagers.

Quatre frowned, thinking back to Shin when she noted she couldn't read that well. It was easy to forget that the education in Lower Angels was crap, and if Chai had been pregnant she probably had dropped out of school on top of it.

Was Shin the same way?

"The girls are here and safe," Jordan added, sounding relieved. "We're gonna sleep tonight and head back in on the first flight in the morning. Our flight will get there at one. I have no car there so I'll need picked up."

"That's fine," Quatre reassured him as Chai looked up to him curiously. "Their flight comes in tomorrow at one."

She nodded, looking back to the notebook.

"Anything else you want us to do?" the man asked.

"I dunno, spin my three puppies into the other groups? Set Simone up to tail Chance as an assistant, get Trent to follow Wufei, and you and Tro can fight over Max...it'll give them something to do that's at least remotely useful for today."

"All right," Quatre agreed, looking to the back window. "I'm gonna give Chai the phone back now. I'm on break and wanted to check what was happening here. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right," Jordan agreed. "Hey, Max is a good guy, book smart, but he doesn't have a lot of practical experience. Don't break him on me."

Quatre laughed and passed the phone to Chai, leaning forward to kiss her forehead before turning to go again.

He'd seen some cute looking children's books at the canteen, and had thought about buying them for Chip. He'd intended to have sit down and read time with the boy, but if he worked it like he wanted to, he could probably get Chai reading it, then Shin.

The only way he'd figure out her reading level was to test her, after all...her and Shin both.

It didn't do to have wives who couldn't read. It seemed a little too damned stone age for his thinking.

He moved out the door, heading back to his car with a slight grin.

He needed to find Wufei and see if the man was willing to swallow his damn pride or not. Danielle was _really_ a good girl, and aside from being a spoiled girl, she wasn't that high maintenance.

Shit, if Wufei could figure out the empathy stuff like he'd been trying, and he wasn't going to get over his pride, Quatre himself might lend the girl some support.

It was a wicked thought, but he also knew he'd do it...if.

- -

**December 2, A.C. 204. Base. 8:45am**

"**Go! Go! Go!**" Chance was shouting at the backs of his men as they ran in full battle dress toward their van. The man himself was trying to pull on his bulletproof vest.

Quatre moved to stand beside the path, giving the man a curious look.

"_Winner!_" he shouted irritably. "Out of the way! Go, assholes!"

They were actually ignoring Quatre, far too used to Chance in business mode to take his shouting too seriously.

"Mae and Duvall are safe," Quatre retorted, watching the men move around him wordlessly.

"What?" Chance half stopped, then shook his head and shoved his rifle into Quatre's hands. "Tell me now." He started lining his vest up properly.

"Jor called about five minutes ago. I guess he got them about fifteen. That's all I know...what are you doing, sir?"

Quatre really wished he _hadn't_ added that, but there was something about Chance that made it a bit instinctive.

"Drug raid gone bad," Chance retorted, taking his rifle back and pausing briefly to flash him a grin, "...sir."

Quatre gave him a look as he jumped into the already moving van. He watched the pair of vehicles fly down the road, then realized what the man had said.

Huh...

So, where was Wufei?

He started for the building, then stopped as Max, Trent, and Simone moved out to give him worried looks.

"Ladies," Quatre greeted, making a gesture like tilting his hat.

"Sir," Simone returned nonplussed as the guys gave him looks and saluted.

"You're supposed to be playing with Yuy today," he noted to the female. "But he's going to play target practice, so I'm stealing you instead."

She gave him a confused look, which included a cute tilt of her head.

And _how_ old was she? Quatre berated himself slightly for the thoughts teasing at him with hints of 'if Wufei...'

"You're with Chang," he added to Trent, who perked up happily. "I don't know where Chang is, but you're with him...go...find him," he gestured toward the building with one hand.

The guy gave him a look, then saluted and turned at a run.

"And me?" Max asked.

"You get to play with echa today," Quatre returned happily. "Maxwell said for me and him to fight over you, but I got the girl," he shrugged. "Come on. He's out in the field."

"The field?" Max asked nervously, moving to follow. "I know the med tent...the M building..."

Quatre gave him a look.

"I don't know what 'field' refers to?" he offered.

"This big flat area covered in grass," Quatre returned somewhat expansively, using both hands to indicate a large area. "Lovers run through them in the summer to jump at each other and hug, deer frolic in them...foxes chase stuff in them. They aren't all that hard to find."

"You're mean," Simone protested when Max flinched embarrassedly.

"I...am an ass," Quatre reassured her happily, nodding his head as they started walking. "It's one of my many charms. You'll come to love it, I promise."

She gave him an amused look.

It didn't take them too long to pass the end of the building, but the field was actually a few blocks over behind a couple taller buildings. The walk wasn't straining at all, but it did take some time...but the pair of youth stopped to crane their necks up at the giant M.S. standing in ordered rows, blocking out what view of the grey overcast skies there was.

"Come on," Quatre added, moving across the street. The men guarding the area saluted him properly as he passed, but didn't question his right to bring anyone into the area. Anyone else would have been stopped at gunpoint.

"Those are huge," Simone whispered, moving closer to him.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked her curiously.

She shook her head, her eyes still shining up.

"I'll take you up one, then," he reassured her, then raised his voice to a comfortable bellow. "Barton!"

"Go away," Trowa returned, his head appearing over a shoulder.

"Come on," Quatre said happily to Max, who was still very wide-eyed. The towrope was down, which made things ten times easier than talking Trowa into lowering it when he was trying to work.

Quatre slid his foot into the handhold and extended an arm to Max.

Max balked.

"I won't drop you," Quatre retorted irritably, grabbing his arm and pulling him in hard. "Hold onto me, you'll have no footing."

"I'm not comfortable with this!" he started to protest, but Quatre used his free foot to start the tow.

"What do you _want_, Winner," Trowa demanded, disappearing again.

Quatre ignored him, more focused on keeping the horrified nineteen year old against his chest. The guy was almost crushing him, so Quatre doubted they'd fall, but one wrong move would send them spinning.

"Quatre," Trowa snapped when the rope neared the opened hatch.

"Mae and Duvall are a half hour or so safe," Quatre noted, stopping the rope with his boot to shove the kid up onto the platform. Max scrambled away from the edge and pressed his back against the door. "I don't know full details, but I know Jor has them," Quatre clicked the tow back on and climbed up himself, stepping toward the shoulder and considering the path Trowa would have taken. "Can we come out?"

"What do you need to for?" Trowa retorted irritably, reappearing. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt that was stretched over his chest...and covered in grease spots, actually. He also had on those black half-gloves and his green uniform pants.

"Come on," Quatre suggested to the kid.

"Do I have to?" Max asked, staring at him.

"Are you scared of heights?" Quatre asked blankly.

"No...falling," the guy returned. "If I were safe up here..."

"There's a harness in the pit," Trowa noted. "Have him put it on...I don't care if _you_ fall." He disappeared again.

"Like I'd fall," Quatre retorted, moving into the cockpit to dig the item in question out. It took Max a little bit of doing to figure the thing out and get it on, and then it took Quatre a moment to get it on _right_.

"What are you _doing_ up here?" Trowa added, looking down to Simone, who was standing near the feet and looking up at them.

Quatre took the jump like he imagined Trowa had, then turned and opened his arms to reassure the kid he'd catch him.

If he had to catch him, they were both falling, so he _would_ have a hold of him...

"Hey," Trowa persisted, giving him a look. "I'm annoyed, how are you ignoring me?"

"I've lived with this my whole _life_," Quatre retorted almost irritably as Max did jump. He made sure he was steady on his own two feet before turning to look at Trowa again. "I don't know if you remember or not, but I'm twenty-five."

Trowa gave him a look.

Quatre rolled his eyes slightly as Max moved curiously closer to the hole Trowa'd been in.

"So?" Trowa added, passing the kid a wrench and dropping to crouch in front of the thing. "Fuck...I can't get this bolt loose," he added to the blond, messing with a metal protrusion before wiping his face...and smearing grease on it.

"Oh let me," Quatre grumbled, sliding between the pair to get down and take the wrench from the younger male. He was older than both of them and still smaller–that only bothered him sometimes...

"You _fit_," Trowa retorted, moving back and studying Max. "You know mech?"

"Not really," Max returned, still looking into the hole with a severe sort of interest.

"You ever flown?"

The kid turned to give him a wide-eyed sort of wondering look. "Not yet, the testing is in a few weeks...but I'm with Maxwell, so...unless he cuts me loose..." he shrugged, looking away.

"Bullshit," Trowa retorted. "I'll teach you to fly in the next year or two, tests or no."

The guy focused on him.

"We spin our guys through all of us," Quatre reminded him. "Paris is a damn good flyer...so is Morgan, actually."

"Who?"

"Marks and Robert," Trowa explained. "Winner and Chang's seconds."

"I'm not...a second," he protested.

"Holy shit, Tro," Quatre muttered irritably as he tried to get his arm in at a good angle. "What did you do to this? The edges are all eaten off."

"It's _stuck_," Trowa retorted irritably. "Don't be an ass to _me_ about it."

"Fuck!" Quatre snarled as he skinned his knuckles, then noted that his nails had oil under them and groaned irritably, pulling back. He considered his hand a moment, then looked to Max. "You do it."

"What?" Max returned in disbelief. "I can't _touch_..."

Quatre looked to Trowa.

"We're going to pretend you didn't just say that," Trowa informed him happily. "There are about three people above us who can tell us what to do...so we're going to forget this conversation even took place.

Max stared at them, then moved quickly into the hole to study the bolts.

"Shit," Quatre repeated, using a handful of Trowa's shirt to wipe his hand off. "Anyway...Jor called to say he got the girls. They're sleeping now, or nearly, and they're coming in tomorrow at one. He told me to spin his puppies out."

"Ow," Max muttered, jumping slightly before turning to look at him. "_What_?"

Quatre gestured him back to his job indifferently, looking back to his nails. "He told me to put Simone with Chance, and Trent with Fei...and then me and you could fight over Max, but Chance is on drug-raid duty and Simone might have the skills for that, but not the full training like the rest of his team has, so I'm going to take her. That means you get Max."

Trowa looked to the kid a long moment, then rolled his eyes very slightly. "All right."

"Ow," Max repeated in more of a whine, withdrawing from the hole to look at his own knuckles.

They both looked at him.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he asked, offering them the bolt before looking back to his bleeding knuckles.

"Here," Trowa suggested, making a catching gesture. A few moments later, there was a loud thud as he tossed the thing into a large trash-bin between the machine he was working on and the one behind it.

"You got it?" Doug called from the next machine back, then blinked at Quatre and saluted.

"Yeah, Max did," Trowa agreed. "He's already bleeding for it...he'll do just fine, huh?"

Max blinked at him.

"I'm gonna take Simone up," Quatre noted, moving back toward the cockpit door. "Maybe she'll have fingernail clippers so I can clean this shit out..."

Trowa gave him an amused look. "Pretty boy," he accused.

"My hair is shiny and healthy," Quatre retorted, jumping back to the door. "My nails are healthy, and my clothes stay clean. I'm _not_ a pretty boy."

"I could make a few comments that you really wouldn't appreciate," Trowa noted happily, watching as he sat on the edge. "I won't, but I could."

"You're a doll," Quatre retorted...and slid down the rope in a practiced motion so the thing didn't have to stop moving for him to mount it. He saluted Trowa half-assed as he started to spin, and noted that Max was watching him with very wide eyes.

He grinned very slightly...and went to impress the girl.

- -

**December 3, A.C. 204. Sion, Switzerland. 7am**

Judas ran his hand down his face tiredly as he closed his phone, thanking whatever god was out there that his friends were safe. It'd been bad enough to hear about the issue when Jordan had called from his airplane, let alone knowing he was too far away to be of any use when Mouthy was closer.

Not only were they safe though...but Jordan was _coming_.

That call had been to inform Judas that Jor would be stopping in Sion for a day or two. He had already sent Riley and Danielle back to the base, but he himself was en route to Switzerland to check on him since the guy had been alone for several weeks.

Judas wasn't entirely sure he appreciated that, really.

"Who the hell was that?" Aleksander demanded from where he'd passed out the night before on the floor.

"A friend," Judas returned, dropping back onto his mattress. Victor and Rasmus were scattered across the floor, but Kiel had taken up the bottom edge of the bed. "Why are you fucks still in here?"

"Because it's warm or something," Kiel noted, moving to stretch up the bed and lay properly. "I seriously hope Boss-man doesn't need us for a few hours."

"Don't be stupid," Judas returned. "I have some Bloody Mary mix in my bag."

"How'd you afford that?" Victor asked, his head poking up.

"Doesn't Brantley _pay_ you?" Judas demanded of him in disbelief. "Or do you just have weird priorities?"

"I dunno, I have this baby back home," Victor retorted irritably. "This thing called a family...kinda makes it hard to spend extra money on hangover cures."

"Yeah, you'd rather spend it on more alcohol," Ras agreed tiredly. "Want me to get it?"

"No, I will," Judas returned, climbing off the bed. "My friend is going to stay with me for the night," he added.

"What?" Alek raised his head to give him a confused look.

"My friend is staying the night here. He's got a weird lay-over."

"How do you know English?" Kiel asked, looking at him curiously.

"What?" Judas demanded blankly.

"You answered in English," the guy repeated. "You didn't say much, but..."

"I took the class in school," Judas noted, giving him a weird look.

It was bad enough Jor had snapped at him to speak German, he didn't need _them_ realizing he knew more languages than that.

"You're weird," Alek noted, rolling his eyes. "You're just really weird."

"Whatever," Judas retorted, flopping back a moment before making himself fall off the mattress so he'd stand up again.

They really needed that Bloody Mary mix...now, if they intended to do anything all day long.

Hopefully he hadn't drank enough so he'd puke...but he really didn't think he'd managed it.

...but Jordan was _coming_.

No matter what happened during the day, he had that to focus on...and he fully intended to.


	21. 21

— 21 —

**December 3, A.C. 204. Sion, Switzerland. 12pm**

"You're there? All right," Chai muttered, resting back on the stool. "Be careful, all right?"

"I know," Jordan reassured her quietly as he followed Judas back toward a waiting car. "I just feel the need to make sure everything is working...I'll talk to you later, all right?"

"All right," she agreed tiredly. "Jordan...be safe."

"I know," he reassured her, then closed his phone. He was glad he had as he neared the machine, because there were two guys sitting in it giving him weird looks.

"What?" Judas asked unceremoniously, kicking the driver's door.

"I didn't say anything, fucker," the guy returned, though he did pop the trunk.

"Hey, I'm Aleksander," the guy added, offering his hand through the window.

"Mark," Jordan returned, sliding in as Judas slammed the trunk closed. The second guy was sitting fully back against his seat as he stared at Jordan with very interested eyes. He also had his head tilted so it was around the edge of the headrest, but he wasn't quite facing the former pilot. Jor considered his face a moment, then raised an eyebrow.

"You straight?" the guy asked curiously.

Judas smacked him upside the head...which made him start laughing and sit forward, rubbing at the spot as he turned to face Jordan better.

"Let's just say you're barkin' up the wrong tree, huh?" Jordan returned happily.

Both Aleksander and Judas died laughing evilly at that.

"_I'm_ straight!" the guy retorted, looking a little embarrassed. "You're sleepin' in his _room_!"

"From what I understood," Jordan returned easily, "you were sleeping on his bed, so..."

That made Aleksander laugh even harder as the car spluttered into life.

"This is Mark," Judas added happily. "That's Kiel and Alek...I'm not sure why Kiel had to come, but there we go all the same."

Alek turned to look Judas up and down, then focused back on driving. "So what brings you _here_ of all places?" he added after a moment as he pulled into traffic.

"They have these bank accounts," Jordan explained, nonplussed. "They're lovely little things, really."

Aleksander started laughing again.

- -

**December 3, A.C. 204. Airport. 1pm**

Raul sighed as Trowa moved around behind him. The guard they'd accosted to return the suitcase the previous week was standing not far away.

"You know what I like about you?" Trowa asked quietly, almost in his ear.

"I don't care, but you're going to tell me anyway," Raul returned easily. He actually didn't mind the guy too much. He rather appreciated the guy's humor, even if he _was_ usually the butt of every joke.

He wasn't sure how, exactly, but he was pretty sure that was the case.

"You're so damn easy going," Trowa returned, stopping comfortably on his far side to meet his eyes. "I've been trying and trying to get under your skin, and it just _doesn't_ work...like last time we were here, you didn't balk that I was making him think we were lovers...you played into it."

"I'm here to support my superiors," Raul returned, giving him another look.

"I suppose," Trowa agreed, relaxing his stance. "I'm still gonna fuck with you, though."

"I'd assumed as much," Raul reassured him. "I don't have much faith in the idea of you suddenly growing up."

"I've heard that before, I think," he noted, looking curiously to the guy. "I just don't remember where."

Raul grinned at that.

"Raul!"

The guy's attention was instantly turned to Danielle, who went flying through the crowd to jump in his arms and cling to him hard.

"Hi, Raul," Riley muttered, moving up behind. "Barton, sir."

Trowa nodded respectfully at her. "How was the flight?"

"Long, but I made myself stay away," she returned. She smiled slightly at Raul. "No matter what story she spins, it wasn't all that bad."

"Jor's chauvinistic," Trowa reassured her. "He doesn't mean any wrong, but he would have let Raul or Mouthy come in on their own instead of flying over there."

Considering that Riley had been thinking similar thoughts herself, she smiled in return.

"Come on," he added, stepping back. "Let's get your shit and head back to base. Don't be too alarmed when Yuy shows up, though. He got shot yesterday, because he's damn talented. He's on Remalene, so don't let him fool you. His injury wasn't fatal or even serious, just an annoyance. He's in a pissy mood, though."

They both blinked at him...and Trowa led them toward the baggage claim.

- -

**December 3, A.C. 204. Base. 4pm**

"Let me check it," Simone whined at Chance from where she was sitting by his leg. "Come on, I just want to make sure it's..."

"I can take care of my own wound, thank you," Chance retorted irritably, rolling his pant-leg back down.

"I'm supposed to be your assistant!" she protested.

"Yes, assistant, not nurse-maid," Chance agreed. "Get off the floor like that before someone decides I'm being immoral."

"Yuy," she whined, moving a little closer to him.

Chance gave her a very tired look, then turned to look at Chai. "Make her _stop_ that," he whined.

Chai returned a somewhat whimsical grin and went back to folding her laundry.

Simone started to roll the pant-leg up again.

"Stop that!" Chance protested, brushing her hands away again. "It's _fine_."

A shrill beeping tore through the air and made both he and Chai jump as Simone looked to her watch. "Ooh, time for your meds," she noted, reaching into her pocket.

Chance stared at her in horror.

Chai started laughing, because the expression seemed so comically sincere.

"Here," Simone noted, placing the pills in his palm and rising to her feet. "I'll get you water."

"Get me a pop," he retorted.

"Dr. Morris said you should take it with water," Simone retorted...and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Chai," Chance appealed to her almost desperately.

"What do you want me to do?" Chai retorted, grinning unabashedly back at him.

"Make her _stop_," Chance repeated, staring at her in amazement. "My leg doesn't even hurt and look at this!" he extended his palm again to show her the pills. "She had them in her _pocket_!"

"Yes, she's a good assistant," Chai returned happily, going back to her folding.

Chance stared at _her_ in horror.

Quatre started laughing from where he was laying on his mattress, sitting up and moving to the door to look out at the pair as Simone came back into the room. She had a can of soda in one hand...and a cup of water in the other.

The blond laughed even harder, preparing himself for the inevitable chagrin Chance would offer as soon as he noticed the smaller details.

"You are an ass," Chance noted, turning to look at him. "When is everyone else going to show up and save me?" He noticed the can and reacted with pleasure as he reached for it...and then Simone shoved the cup in his hand.

Quatre laughed even harder at that, bending over forward as his assumption proved correct.

"You're horrible," Chai chided him gently. "Go back in your room before he has another fit."

"I'm _not_ throwing fits!" Chance retorted instantly, distracted from taking his medicine.

Quatre laughed even harder, moving to the back of the couch to _look_ at him.

Chance _glared_ back.

"Hey, pussycat," Wufei muttered as he moved into the house without knocking, then looked to Quatre, blinking.

"He thinks it's funny that my wet-nurse here won't leave me be," Chance explained, gesturing irritably at Simone.

"I am _not_ a wet-nurse!" Simone protested.

Quatre laughed even harder.

"Quatre!" Chai hissed at him, though she wasn't angry or even annoyed. She was very complacent, like she was seriously enjoying her simple task.

"Oh, here, let me," Wufei muttered, moving to take the towels from her.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling that pleased smile at him.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but that smile was worth an entire house full of work. He darted to finish his little mission, glad that Quatre wasn't ass enough to point the little exchange out.

"Don't mind him, Simone," Chai added, starting on some jeans. "You mean well, he's just not used to help when he's done something stupid, let alone sympathy."

"I didn't do anything stupid!" Chance attacked that one instantly...which started Quatre sniggering again since he'd almost calmed himself.

The door opened again and Riley moved into the house with Danielle in tow...which did stop Quatre's laughter, if only because he realized that in about two seconds Wufei was going to come back for more little pleasing bits of attention from Chai and see the female.

"Mae! Duvall!" Simone bounced on her spot. "Hi!"

"Hi, Simone," Danielle returned, looking to Chance curiously. "Haven't you shook her yet? I thought you were bound and determined to lose her."

Simone's expression instantly went pained and embarrassed as she shrank back where she stood.

"Great, Danielle," Riley chided. "Now you've gone and hurt her feelings...watch how you phrase things before she gets to know you..."

"I'm a nuisance, aren't I?" Simone asked, her normal good spirits gone.

"No!" Quatre said quickly, moving around the couch to rest his hands on her shoulders. "No...you're not," he gave Chance a death-look before the girl could notice. "You've been helpful, but his wound care is his own problem...he sets his own bones, come on..."

She looked up to him, a slight glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"My only problem is that you keep trying to check it," Chance said in a deep and reassuring voice. "I've gotten these kind of wounds before, and they're best left alone until they need cleaned...once a day, huh? Don't mind my fussing...I just feel stupid because I let myself get distracted."

She looked to him, her eyes hopeful again.

Chance wanted to snort, but took his pills with the water she'd offered, being sure to finish off the cup. He didn't _want_ the water, but he didn't want her to feel useless. She didn't know much yet, but she _was_ trying.

"There, see?" Quatre said gently, indicating the cup. "He wouldn't have conceded if he didn't mean it." ...which was _beyond_ a lie, but entirely beside the point.

She gave the guy a slightly hopeful smile.

"Can you put this in the sink for me?" he asked, offering her back the cup as he took the can from her. "I'd appreciate it."

She nodded, smiling at him again before turning to bounce into the kitchen.

Chance _glared_ at Danielle.

Danielle returned a nervous look.

"How do you make them all _fit_?" Wufei demanded as he moved back into the kitchen. "I got most of...them..." he stopped, focusing on the new arrivals.

"The black ones go in _their_ bathroom," Quatre noted in amusement. "Something about Jor not wanting to stain whatever colors she picked with blood."

"Oh...oops," Wufei blinked at him, then looked back to the females.

"Hi, Wufei," Riley greeted him with a smile, moving around toward the kitchen. "Do you mind if I get something to drink, Chai?"

"That's fine," Chai returned, moving the pile of pants away from herself some.

"Uh...here," Wufei said, instead of looking at Danielle. "Let me get that."

Chai smiled at him again, but he didn't meet her eyes as he turned and moved toward her and Jordan's bedroom.

"What are you up to?" Chance asked Danielle curiously. "I thought you'd be all down and hiding here today."

"I tried that, but it's not the same without Jor coming in to pick at me," she noted almost sadly, moving to sit at the end of the couch. "Hi, Chai."

"Hello," Chai returned, smiling at her.

"Can I help?" Danielle asked quietly, looking the pile over.

"Mate socks?" Chai asked. "They're Jor's and it's a nuisance, but he likes the toes to be mated."

"The toes?" Danielle asked in confusion as she slid onto the floor.

"You know," Chance muttered, moving his left foot. "The big toe always leaves an impression, and if you switch it back and forth the end of the sock gets all stretched out...I do it, too...it's not _really_ annoying, is it?" he added, looking back to Chai. "I don't want to annoy Shin."

Chai smiled at that and shoved the pile of socks at Danielle. "I doubt you could do anything to _really_ annoy her for another six months. I've been doing Jordan's laundry for about six years, though."

"Oh," Chance frowned at that, thinking.

Wufei moved back into the room with Quatre behind him, though they hadn't noticed Quatre leaving the room. A moment later, Simone followed Riley back into the main area herself.

"So," Riley asked happily, moving to sit by the far end of Chai's pile. "What news?"

"He called me when he got there...that was four this morning," Chai repeated the information as she carefully spread out one of his undershirts. "He's not going to call me unless something happens. In this situation, no news is good news."

"Ah, the wife of a spy," Quatre muttered almost nostalgically. "Logic that makes no sense to any other."

Chai flashed him a grin, focusing back on the shirt.

"You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?" Chance almost accused her.

"What?" Chai asked blankly.

"You're all happy to be a domestic goddess..."

"My husband's a god?" she asked curiously.

Chance grinned at that.

"What?" Simone asked, moving away slowly from Quatre's side.

"Ooh, she hasn't heard any of it yet," Riley noted to Danielle happily. "She doesn't _realize_ that the only sane one around is Trowa."

Quatre and Chance _both_ choked on that one, though Chance's was a bit more literal. He spluttered a moment, his eyes watering as he stared at the girl. "What?" he asked in a way only someone who'd breathed in a soda could.

"Chance," Chai said sincerely, looking up to him until he met her eyes. "You're not supposed to _smoke_ it."

He started laughing on top of his coughs, wiping at his eyes.

Wufei moved hesitantly to sit in the armchair, not looking at Danielle as he did it.

"That's gonna get damn annoying," Quatre noted to no one in particular.

"What?" Simone asked, looking to him. "I'm lost."

Quatre shrugged slightly at her, but Chai had taken his hint and focused on her power for him. He sighed almost reverently, then smiled even more at the girl, moving to stand closer to her.

"What are you doing?" Wufei asked him skeptically in French.

"Am I doing something?" Quatre returned.

"Ooh, you speak French?" Simone asked them both eagerly...in French. "I didn't know you did!"

They stared at her in horror.

"Ha!" Chance muttered, feeling better somehow about his entire day.

"Hello!" Trowa sang out as he bounced into the house with Raul and Max behind him. "We're here! No need for alarm!"

"Who was alarmed?" Wufei returned happily.

"The ladies," Trowa said quite calmly. "Without my presence they wither and die."

Simone blinked at him in complete confusion as Riley let out a guffaw of laughter.

Trowa started laughing, then focused on Chai. "Hello, pussycat."

"Hello, Trowa," she returned smiling at him. "Come in, you're letting the heat out."

Max shut the door quickly, looking embarrassed.

"What languages do you speak?" Wufei half accused him instantly.

"What?" he asked, blinking at the man in amazement.

"What languages do you speak?" Wufei repeated, glancing back at Simone. "Both of you."

"I know...Chinese and Japanese," Max returned, looking lost. "I know a bit of Vietnamese, too...but not much."

"And?"

"English?" the guy asked in confusion.

"No French?"

He shook his head and pointed at Simone. "She speaks French, though."

"He and Winner just found out the hard way," Chance noted happily.

Max blinked at him.

"I know French...and proper Spanish," Simone noted, frowning at him. "Why?"

"Because when we want to say something that no one else needs to understand, he and I use French," Wufei returned, pointing at Quatre. "I was being properly schooled, so I didn't get to learn that many languages...and I haven't bothered to learn anymore." He frowned, looking to Chance. "What one should I learn? One we all can know."

"Italian...but they know it," Chance mused, looking to Riley and Danielle. "Huh...I think Jordan just screwed us."

"Or you'll just have to get clever," Chai retorted happily. She frowned, though, because Riley was casting her almost nervous looks. "What?"

"Why do you let them call you that?" Riley asked quickly, glancing at the guys.

"What?" Chai asked blankly. "Call me what?"

"Pussycat!" she said it almost like it was a bad word.

Chance, Quatre, Wufei, and Trowa stared at her in amazement.

"Pussycat?" Chai repeated. "They've always called me that."

Riley looked almost horrified.

"What's wrong with pussycat?" Chai protested, looking around to the others. "Is something wrong with it?"

"It's so...demeaning!" Riley protested, looking embarrassed and not looking to the men. Her cheeks were very lightly flushed.

"How is pussycat demeaning?" Chai asked in confusion.

"I think it has something to do with the makeup of the word...not the cat part," Danielle noted, grinning very slightly.

And because they were all guys, and because they were all _obnoxious_ guys...they all started laughing wickedly.

Chai rolled her eyes ceiling-ward as Riley gave them all challenging looks.

"I told her not to ask," Raul noted happily to Max, gesturing for him to follow. "Come on, let's get drinks...and you can explain to me why Trent hasn't shown up yet."


	22. 22

— 22 —

**December 6, A.C. 204. Base. 8am**

"Ah, General," the ambassador from Mozambique greeted Chance happily, shaking his hand with a smile. "It's so wonderful to see you again!"

"It's nice to see you, too, Ambassador," Chance returned cordially. "I hope you've been well."

"As well as I can be," the man noted, moving happily to shake hands with Jordan.

Jordan returned the man's happy greetings quietly, still tired from his weekend. He'd arrived home on Sunday afternoon; it was Monday, but he hadn't fully adjusted to the time change. He hadn't been ready to wake up when his alarm sounded, but he'd drug his own sorry ass out of bed and dropped it in the shower with a vague hope of drowning so he could sleep more.

Unfortunately, it hadn't worked.

He followed Chance almost zombie-like to the seating, wondering when sleep had become such a hard thing for him to work around. He figured it really had something to do with the lack of life-threatening dangers, but considering that Chance'd managed to get shot, that theory didn't really work well either.

"You should have made your excuses," Quatre noted quietly to him as they sat. "I doubt anyone would really notice you weren't here."

"No, I want to know what's going on," Jordan refused quietly. "Leave me be, I'm fine."

"Except the lack of anything resembling focus," Quatre agreed.

"I was just talking with home," the ambassador added, focusing back on Chance. "And they noted to me that the Tanzanian government had contacted them. They're entirely pleased with me for that much, but nothing is being accomplished yet. I really _must_ thank you."

They all nodded respectfully at him, appreciating the sentiment.

"I need to get to my spot," he added, smiling and offering his hand to Chance again before nodding to the rest and turning to scurry across the arena.

"They praised him? For that?" Trowa asked blankly, looking around to them all.

"Whoever dumped it in his lap didn't think he could do it," Quatre noted. "For all that I thought Mozambique and Tanzania had general contact with each other."

"Maybe it's more of an acknowledging the problem," Jor suggested.

"Or maybe you can't talk straight," Trowa returned.

"Maybe I can still kick your ass, let's try it," he muttered, rising to his feet.

Trowa laughed and moved back, raising his arms to shield himself.

"Pussy," Quatre noted quietly.

Trowa laughed even more...and punched him in the arm.

"Stop it, you two," Chance admonished before a tussle could break out. "Wufei, sit between them."

"Me?" Wufei demanded in disbelief. "So Trowa can annoy _me_? Sorry, I'm not interested.

"You're a baby," Raul noted, moving around him to salute Jordan properly.

"You wanna keep the lovebirds separated?" Jordan asked him curiously.

"Sure, I don't want to be here anyway and Trowa might keep me entertained," Raul noted, dropping into the seat next to Quatre.

Trowa flashed Jordan a very appreciative smile and sat himself.

"Are we sure he's straight?" Chance half muttered to Jor.

"I never bothered asking," Jordan returned in kind.

"Why is your toy here?" Chance added.

"He asked me all eager-like if they were supposed to come to this meeting, so I let him come." He smirked slightly. "There's a chance it was sarcasm, but I'm not so sure."

"Eager?" Chance asked blankly. "What does he expect will happen?"

Jordan turned his head to give the guy a curious look. "I never bothered asking."

Chance grinned at him and moved his leg up the back of the chair in front of him, massaging at it.

"_Tcch_," Raul muttered. "Feet off the benches, come on..."

Chance lowered his leg before he thought about it, then directed a dirty look to Raul...who seemed to find something very interesting in the front of the arena.

Jordan grinned.

"So let's see...Judas is the chameleon, Xane is the run boy, Raul is the politician, and Danielle is the office girl...so what's that leave Riley at?"

"What?" Wufei asked, moving to sit on the other side of Chance.

Jordan leaned over to Chance's ear and whispered a bunch of nonsense before throwing 'Danielle' in for good measure.

"No, really," Wufei protested, trying to lean in to hear. "What?"

Chance had the good grace not to laugh and elbowed Jor instead.

"Riley is the go-to girl, I think," he muttered. "From what they told me, they weren't in _too_ serious danger...to...um," he blinked as he lost his train of thought. People had moved from the far door and it had caught his eye.

"Wow," Chance noted, looking at him. "If you start snoring in here, I am _not_ going to wake you up."

Jor gave him a look, then shook his head. "From what they told me, they were chased close but not...they got away," he looked back up to Wufei. "That says to me that Riley is resourceful, but Riley was also telling me that she had to _pull_ Danielle along with her. I think I'm setting Danielle up as my mainstay. That'll free me up to do more at the Rest or around here. Actually, I have to start the active training for my three soon. How's Simone?"

"I'm worried I'll hurt her feelings," Chance admitted glumly, looking toward the center of the arena.

"Simone?" Jordan asked blankly. "How would you hurt her feelings?"

Chance met his eyes, noting the tone of voice. There was complete disbelief there.

"She has like...four brothers...it's damn hard to hurt her feelings," Jordan added.

"She was upset the other night," Wufei argued. "She was all upset."

"I felt like an ass," Chance agreed.

Jordan frowned slightly at that. He couldn't imagine anything any of them could have done that would have really upset her. He shrugged at them, not sure what else to say. The uncomfortable moment extended until Quatre smacked Jor's arm.

"Stop!" Raul was trying to say, though he was laughing somewhat nervously. Trowa had his hand between Raul's legs. "Damn it..._Trowa_!" Raul was trying to move but didn't really have anywhere to go.

"_Trowa_," Jordan said before he could help it.

Trowa gave him a look, which wasn't naughty or amused or anything. It was rather concentrated...before Raul yelped and tried to jump up, then made himself freeze half standing, still laughing.

Trowa did laugh a naughty laugh then...pulling a phone from under the guy.

"What are you two doing?" Chance demanded.

"He took my phone," Trowa retorted. "Tried to sit on it or something." The guy returned to his seat properly, giving Raul a look.

"I feel violated," Raul retorted, dropping down again.

"How was that violating?" Trowa retorted.

"Are they...friends?" Jordan asked blankly as Raul gave Tro a put-upon look.

Quatre actually focused on the pair, blinking himself as he noted that they were both pleased to be sitting near each other. There was a promise of entertainment in it, and a curiousness about the other.

"I thought they were friends with all of us," Wufei suggested, looking to Jordan.

"I mean..._real_ friends, like us," Jordan returned, looking back to him. "Screwing Danielle doesn't count."

Wufei gave him a dirty look, sitting back.

"They are," Quatre added, looking back to Jordan.

"So why don't you tell him how you were all over reassuring Simone," Chance suggested happily.

Quatre cast him a very briefly dirty look before making his expression confused.

Chance snorted.

"What, now?" Jordan asked, looking back to his friend. Actually, Simone had already told him how helpful Quatre was and how much she liked him. It was the serious kind of glowing praise that meant more than the fact that he was a commanding officer she could rely on. Actually, it was somewhat like Danielle had been with Wufei before they'd started dating. "You're aware that she's nineteen, right?"

"It's like...five years," Quatre retorted. "There's nothing wrong with that..."

Jor raised his eyebrows almost skeptically, then focused on a man who was nearing them with a curious expression.

Actually, he didn't care if Quatre and Simone got together. He _didn't_ see anything wrong with it, he just wanted to keep Quatre from getting complacent.

"General," the man greeted Chance happily. "Generals," he corrected, flashing them all grins. "Excuse me...what do you think?" he added to them all in general. "The state of affairs seems pretty calm."

Calm?

Jordan wondered if the mafia bullshit even hit onto the man's radar. It definitely didn't _seem_ calm to him, but then again he had more specialized access to the complaints of the governments. Aside from the normal drug problems, though, the planet _was_ relatively calm. The economy was growing a bit...and there didn't seem to be a huge debt for the governing parties...

"I guess we'll see if we're missing anything after the address, huh?" Chance returned happily. "Wilkon is fairly consistent as far as information goes, but there might be a thing or two that didn't rate CNN."

"Ah, I'm overlooking something," the man smiled and offered his hand to Chance. "I'll retire before I make any more an ass of myself."

Chance returned the grin, shaking his hand and watching the man walk away.

"Is he actually missing something?" Wufei asked, looking back to Jordan.

"Depends on if you call Judas and Xane anything," Jordan noted, unconsciously making the gestures for their names.

"Do that again," Chance muttered, blinking at him. "I got Xane's, but..."

"What?" Jordan blinked at him, then lowered his right ring-finger. "Judas?" he asked.

"What's Riley, then?" Chance muttered, still watching his hand.

Jordan lowered his middle finger.

"That's amazingly simple," Wufei noted. "How the hell is it supposed to work for code?"

"It's not the most secretive," Jor shrugged. "But I talk with my hands anyway, so unless you're looking for it you don't see the consistencies."

"You do not talk with your hands," Wufei protested.

"Not to you, maybe," Jordan returned, spreading his hands very slightly in front of his chest. "But then again, I don't only talk to you, do I?" he flipped his right hand palm up.

Chance sniggered.

"Right," Wufei rolled his eyes, sitting back. "Sure."

Jordan grinned and shrugged innocently at Chance. He'd had his fun and gotten under Wufei's skin a bit...it was all good.

- -

**December 6, A.C. 204. Base. 12pm**

"Daddy!"

"Hey, son," Chance greeted the boy, catching him up and tossing him into the air. "Were you naughty for your mother?"

"Mm-hmm," the boy replied with perfect aplomb, his eyes sparkling.

"Good boy, I'll get you ice cream before dinner!"

"Like hell you will," Shin retorted, moving in to kiss him. "Was it properly boring?"

Chance kissed her again for good measure, starting to talk, but her focus went just beyond him with wide eyes. He turned, noting that his brethren were standing at attention...and focused on President Wilkon himself. He moved instantly to attention as well, slightly hindered by the four year old on his hip, and saluted the man as properly as he could manage.

"Such formality," the man half teased, extending his hand. He tilted his head slightly, focusing on Chip. "I didn't realize you had a son."

"I didn't bring it into public attention," the man returned with a shrug. "This is Zachary."

"Hello, Zachary," the man muttered, offering his hand.

Since the boy had just watched his father shake, he copied the gesture, wondering about the reaction of the people around him. He could tell by the way his uncles were standing that this guy was important, because his dad was important and everyone did that to _him_. He tilted his head at the man. "You're special, aren't you?"

Wilkon's eyes sparkled at that as he smiled and shook his head. "I'm just a man," he denied.

"My dad is just a man...and he's special," the boy argued. "You can't be just a man if my uncles are doing that," he mimicked the salute.

The man gave the child an appreciative look and shrugged. "I can...tell your dad what to do."

"Oh!" the boy understood then. "You're one of the three or four people, huh?"

They all blinked at him for that.

"Uncle Jordan said only three or four people can tell them what to do," he explained, somewhat understanding the confusion. "And there's that lady...um...Une," he shrugged. "So you're one of the other ones."

"Yes, I am," he agreed, smiling slightly before looking to Shin with interest. "Very intelligent son you have here, ma'am...unless I'm horribly mistaken and you're the mistress."

Chance laughed wickedly at that, passing Chip to Jordan and taking his wife's arm. "This is Shinyue Yuy," he noted happily. "My wife."

"I must apologize for missing the wedding," the man noted, offering her a hand. "I tried to make it, but there was a conflict with a visiting ambassador."

"It's perfectly fine, Mr. President," Shin replied, shaking it. "I'd like to thank you for the gift."

"It was the least I could do," he returned, smiling at her. He nodded respectfully at Chance before turning to Jordan with interest.

"Hello, sir," Jordan greeted him happily. He'd pulled Chai up to his side and was firmly holding her hand as he held the little boy. She'd talked to the president several times in the past, but she still tried to slide away before the man spotted her.

"Hello, Mrs. Maxwell," the man added, extending his hand to her. "You look lovely as usual."

"You're too kind," she returned, shaking his hand in response. "You look quite dashing yourself."

For some reason, the man seemed extremely at ease with the female, not that half the continent didn't, and turned to half pose for her entertainment. "My wife sets my clothes out in the morning."

She laughed at that, resting a hand on his shoulder.

He grinned more at her, moving on to Quatre.

"You're in a remarkably good mood," Quatre noted, studying his eyes.

The man smiled again and shrugged. "A well made speech, a receptive crowd...my job isn't overly stressful for now. I enjoy it when I get the chance."

Quatre grinned.

"Just _salute_," Trowa hissed...to Raul, who was trying desperately to get out of the line of the generals.

Jordan groaned to himself, covering his eyes with his left hand as Chai sniggered.

"General?" Wilkon asked curiously, looking to Trowa.

"It's not what it looks like," Trowa returned, starting to snigger a bit. "It really isn't."

Raul was standing perfectly at attention, and his cheeks were perfectly red.

Wilkon gave Trowa a look.

"Maxwell had him come to the speech," Trowa explained. "He was trying to make his excuses before, but I knew you'd show up and thought you might like to meet him. This is first lieutenant Raul Jaem. He's part of Maxwell's specials unit."

"Oh!" Wilkon looked incredibly pleased, extending his hand to the man. "It's an honor to meet you!"

Raul regained himself somewhat and shook the man's hand in return, nodding at him. "I'm honored, Mr. President," he noted, ducking his head.

"So do I get to meet the rest of your team?" he added, turning to look at Jordan again.

"It can be arranged, if you'd like," Jordan returned. "I have two men in the field, though."

"Aww," the man actually looked crestfallen. "Well...I'd like to meet the ones that are here...hopefully some time I'll get a chance to meet them all."

"I've added three new," Jordan warned. "I'm not intending to stop growing my ranks, so you may want to watch your phrasing."

The guy grinned. "Are you available at three?"

"Let's see," he muttered, looking to Chai. "The governing president wants to know if I'm free at..."

"Oh stop," the man muttered, making a gesture at him. "Hello, Chang," he added happily, turning back to the man. "If you're free now I'd like to drag you off and talk about your research."

Wufei looked startled, but nodded. "Of course, sir...we can...well, head back to my apartment. I have all my notes there, and I'll call Roberts."

"Wonderful," the man noted, turning back to the others. "Gentlemen, ladies," he nodded at the women before winking at Chip. "Zachary...please, excuse me."

Chip smiled at him as the former pilots saluted.

"I still say he's on crack," Quatre muttered without quite moving his lips to his friends.

"Quatre," Chai admonished, swatting at him.

He laughed, moving away from her. "He used to treat us like we were time bombs, what do you expect?" Quatre retorted.

"I think you grew up," she argued, then frowned slightly. "Well, they did."

He gave her a look...and it was _her_ turn to laugh and dart out of arm's reach.

Jordan grinned, then pulled out his cell phone.

"I swear I'm going to skin you," Raul noted to Trowa grumpily. "Not only for making me _stand_ here like an ass, but he's greeting you and your _partners_..."

"If he asked that man back at the airport," Trowa returned happily, "that'd be the story he'd get...what'd'ya say? Shall we play it for all it's worth?" ...and, before Raul could react, Trowa darted behind Quatre.


	23. 23

— 23 —

**December 6, A.C. 204. Base. 3pm**

"Mm," Bradley Wilkon muttered, trying to sip more of his drink. "It's too hot, but I want more..."

Chai gave him an amused sort of look, going back to the cups in front of her.

"It's ready!" Quatre called happily into the living room.

"You may want to stir that," Jordan suggested, following Quatre into the room. "Why are you in my kitchen?"

"I knocked on the door and the pretty lady told me to follow her," the man returned, grinning at him.

"Chai, we _talked_ about strays," Jordan admonished seriously.

"He doesn't _look_ like he has fleas," she returned.

Bradley choked hard on that, covering his mouth and looking between them as Jordan grinned wickedly at him.

"Don't mind them, they'd do that to a visiting reigning monarch if that person somehow ended up here," Quatre reassured him. "The fact that you're _our_ reigning monarch..."

"I'm not a monarch," the man protested. "Presidency and monarchy..."

Quatre waved it away with a smile, taking his cup from Chai. "Thank you."

"What he means to say is that you're human in our house," Chai noted, smiling at the man. "And we mean no harm."

"She told me we had to take my girls to the vet," Jordan agreed.

"You...have children?" the man asked, blinking at him.

"Only in a manner of speaking," he returned with a smile. "When I say my girls, I'm referring to Riley Mae and Danielle Duvall...in the not so distant future, Simone Moreau will be added to the list."

"Is she a new recruit then?" Wilkon asked curiously.

"Yes, nineteen year old spitfire," he agreed.

"A wonderful actress, too," Chai agreed, passing a cup to Chance. "Did she tell you what she did to Chance while you were gone?"

Chance focused on her sharply as Bradley looked between them.

"She said she was being his assistant," Jordan noted. "Why?"

"Because she also, uh..." Chai's eyes sparkled as she looked to the man in question. "Well, Danielle came in muttering about Chance trying to get rid of her, and she put on a show of being all upset. She got Chance to take his meds with water to appease her, and Quatre was all over trying to reassure her that Chance was just in a bad mood."

And _that_ explained what Chance had been muttering about.

"What?" Chance protested. "She was _acting_?"

"Oh yeah," Chai returned with a grin, looking to her husband again. "She had them _all_ convinced."

"How do you know it wasn't sincere?" Chance protested.

"I was fairly sure to begin with, because Jor has noted he takes my observations seriously, and then she came here the next day briefly to ask if she'd laid it on too thick."

Chance was staring at her in horror.

"Do we..." Raul was saying as he moved through the front door.

"Proper respect in front of your leaders," Jordan snapped at him instantly in German.

Raul fell immediately silent.

"Are we late?" Trowa asked curiously.

"You're _still_ following him around?" Quatre asked Trowa.

"We went out for lunch," Trowa protested. "What do you mean, following?"

Jordan flashed the president a brief grin.

"Oh...are we late?" Danielle asked nervously as she followed the others. "We're not late, are we? I told Rile to hurry..." she trailed off, then moved into the kitchen with very wide eyes to stare at the president.

"Proper respect in front of your leaders," Jordan prompted her gently in Italian.

Danielle saluted the man, instantly going to attention.

"What are you telling them?" Bradley asked curiously, rising to his feet.

Riley and Raul moved around Danielle to salute the man as well.

"This is first lieutenant Danielle Duvall," Jordan noted happily. "First lieutenant Riley Mae, and first lieutenant Raul Jaem. Ladies, this is your president."

"It's an honor," Riley and Danielle said quietly almost in unison, both ducking their heads respectfully.

"Mr. President," Raul greeted.

"I thought you were all colonels," the man muttered, frowning at them.

"As part of General Maxwell's team, we hold more rank than our given status," Riley noted quietly. "Colonels give us curious looks when we start throwing them orders, but anyone below that tends to obey."

"Ah," the man smiled and moved forward to offer his hand. "I'm happy to meet you."

"Thank you, sir."

The meeting continued in that same vein for a while as the man asked them random seeming questions. Considering that having the president in the kitchen didn't mean too much to the other pilots, they flicked the television onto children's shows when Chip entered the house, and the little boy then started muttering to his father about this cute kitten he'd seen that he wanted to get for his mother. He was being as persuasive as he knew how, throwing in hints that he'd be more than willing to help Shin take care of the creature.

Jordan wondered if Shin realized she could do whatever she wanted in that aspect, too...did Chai? Chai muttered about puppies occasionally...

"Jordan," Chai smacked his rear lightly as she passed and he focused instantly back on the conversation.

"Who are the two missing?" Bradley asked Jor in a slightly louder tone.

Um... Oh.

"Xane Featihl, my second, and Judas Ifhera. We're working on the smuggling ring out of Chile."

"The one that seems to have snatched up our mecha?" the man asked, focusing on him sharply. "Any progress?"

"We have a cache," Jordan shrugged. "There are men working on tracing it back, but we're still not entirely sure the ring really _started_ in Chile."

The man nodded, looking to the trio in front of him.

"It was Danielle who procured the cache," Jordan noted happily. "With Riley at her side...actually, they had something of a misadventure at the end of last week."

"I'd heard you ran off to Vietnam," the man noted, smiling slightly. "I was wondering what for."

"Unfortunately, I haven't been in my post long enough to let these dangers stand. They came in fine on their own, but I couldn't bear all the 'what if's," he made air quotes.

Bradley nodded his understanding.

"All right," Wufei said quietly as the front door opened.

"Hi, Chai," Simone said quietly.

"Hey," Chai returned.

"In here," Jordan called.

Bradley gave him an interested look.

"My new recruits," Jordan explained.

Simone, flanked by Max and Trent, moved around the older three to salute their leader...and then the president.

Jordan was startled by that.

"Simone Moreau," she noted, smiling at him and nodding her head once.

"Maximilian Zhou," Max noted, nodding himself.

"Trent Brown," Trent agreed. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

The three saluted again.

"Over achievers," Raul teased.

Max flashed him a grin.

"Hello," the president muttered, moving to shake their hands. "I hear you're the next generation of hellions."

Simone smiled an almost angelic smile at that.

...Jordan...really liked his crew. He _really_ did.

- -

**December 22, A.C. 204. Berlin, Germany. 2pm**

Judas wasn't entirely sure it was such a great idea, but Jordan had insisted, and once Jordan had insisted, there was no point in arguing.

They were going home for Christmas.

"I still can't believe you're bailing on us," Alek grumbled at him as they neared the gates. "Man, it's _Christmas_..."

"I told you," Judas returned, "I've had this planned for ages now. I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone."

"I guess," Alek muttered, shaking his head to express his disappointment before pulling Judas in and bumping his shoulder. "It's gonna get damn boring around here without you."

"You dealt before I showed up," Jude reminded him easily. "You can deal with a couple weeks."

"Yeah, yeah," Alek shook his head, then gestured slightly with it. "Happy Christmas."

Judas winked as he started to walk away.

"You better bring me something," Kiel informed him, pulling him into a brief hug. "And it better be special."

"Yes, dear," Judas retorted.

Kiel flashed him a grin with rolled eyes, then followed after the other.

"Happy Christmas," Victor noted, shaking his hand and bumping his shoulder as well. "Don't let them bother you. Alek can't really go home to his family, you know? Some fucked up shit a couple years ago and he got damn drunk. They don't want him around for the holidays, but we do, you know?"

Judas nodded his acceptance of that, though he'd gathered as much since they'd met. Actually, Aleksander _wanted_ his family, or _a_ family. It was part of why he worked for Brantley. Judas also knew that since he'd said he was going home for the holidays, Alek had been getting progressively more clingy toward him.

Victor winked at him and moved after Kiel.

"You watch yourself," Rasmus suggested. "We have more enemies than friends, you know?" He hugged Judas briefly. "Call and let us know when you've landed?"

"I'll tell you I'll try," Judas returned with a grin. "I have a couple little sisters who're apt to keep me running from the moment I get off the plane to the moment I bolt back onto it."

The man grinned at that, patting his back. "You might call Alek."

"Yeah," Judas agreed, smiling more as he backed up some. "I'll call him when I get in and then on Christmas day...try not to let him drink himself into oblivion."

"As long as you don't actually call too often it should be fine. You know how he is. Later, Dead."

"Later, Ras," Judas returned quietly, watching him walk away. He sighed when the guy was out of sight and moved across the room to sit on a bench. He was taking a small hop flight from Berlin to Hamburg, and from there back to the base. He'd call during his layover, and then set his clock to remind him a good hour to call on Christmas day.

He shook his head, running his hands through his hair.

At least he wasn't the only one with the problem. Mouthy had to be fairly entrenched in China by this point.

It'd be nice to be home and surrounded by English again, and it'd be nice to be with his team...and Jor...shit, his _other_ friends.

He grinned slightly to himself. It was funny how priorities shifted after saving someone's ass and being saved while mired down in hell.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Fuzhou, China. 1am**

Xane curled down into his chair as plane hit flight altitude, staring out the window at the vast amount of darkness he could see.

It was all well and good to be going home for Christmas, but he was going to be arriving in California at about two in the morning...in like...an hour.

He grinned slightly at that. He wanted to be properly tired at two in the morning, but it was _one_ in the morning and he was damn tired.

There was no real way around it, he needed to sleep now, and try to sleep again when he got home. Maybe if he only napped he could stay up the remainder of the flight. His laptop was charged so he could work more on the discs Jordan had given him...

That was a pleasant thought...Jordan...but it was fairly quickly followed by the fact that James wasn't in the picture anymore. He wouldn't have to lie and sneak around, sure, but...he wouldn't get to see the guy, either.

Maybe James had gone home for Christmas. The breakup was a hundred times different back in the states than it was when he was in China. In China his reality was mafia play-time and one-night stands...at base it was a breakup.

How depressing.

Xane sank even lower in his seat, considering the melancholy attached to the thoughts, then changed focus back to Jordan. Not only Jordan, though. Judas, and Raul, Danielle, and Riley...and then Chai and Chance and Wufei...hell, he'd have to spend Christmas with his actual family, but that wasn't so terrible, was it?

He missed his mom. It wasn't like he could keep in regular contact with her when he was playing toy for a bunch of Chinese rich boys.

He yawned, sinking lower in his seat still. He was curled into something of a ball, and very glad no one was sitting next to him. He probably looked weird, and he was taking up more than his fair share of the second seat.

"Sir?" a woman's voice came softly.

Xane turned to look. She was offering him a pillow and blanket. "Oh, thank you," he said, smiling at her and taking the pillow.

"I hate it sometimes," she confided in quiet Chinese. "I see so many people from so many walks of life that I can't tell who would understand me and who wouldn't. My English is horrible."

Xane smiled at that, allowing her to tuck the blanket around him. "It can be hard," he agreed. "It's even harder when you don't know the local language and everyone's expecting you to."

She smiled at that, then slid back into the isle and disappeared.

Well, at least he'd have someone to talk to throughout the flight.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Airplane. 1am**

Leafu tried to repeat after the computer voice and broke into giggles at her dismal failure.

"You're still doing it with your Es," Xane noted to her in amusement. "Eeh."

"Ih-eh..." she repeated, frowning.

Xane grinned more at that.

"There you are, what are you doing?" a second attendant muttered, moving into the row to glare at the girl. "We have to get ready to dock...come _on_!"

"Already?" Leafu protested, looking to her watch and turning horrified eyes onto Xane.

He took the laptop from her with a smile and passed her his empty cup.

She gave him a look, though it was amused, then darted after her co-worker.

Oops.

Xane smirked more to himself, closing down the program. There was a long time period where the attendants took turns going up and down collecting garbage, and until the last half hour or so, Leafu had been doing her job. They'd been talking about English and how it wasn't really too hard to pronounce if you practiced, which had turned into Xane noting he had a program that might have learning English on it.

The spy blinked tiredly, glad he'd managed to wake back up and keep that way. He'd napped away his initial tiredness at the beginning of the flight, then he'd turned the computer on to play solitaire for a while. Leafu had ended up joining him at every break, and had slept for a while next to him, too, and if he could have done it, he would take her home with him.

And since that wasn't an option, he wrote his email address on a piece of paper with his name and phone number.

The remaining time to landing went damn quick, and before he knew it, he was fighting his way toward the front of the machine. He stopped long enough to let a woman with two little kids slide out, and helped her pull down their bags from the overhead, then continued keep the crowd back long enough that she could get her two moving, then went forward himself as the people behind him grumbled disconsolately.

He didn't care, the woman needed out before anyone else with small children like that.

"You're sweet," Leafu whispered at him as he neared the entrance.

He winked at her, passing her the piece of paper before grinning at her and moving out with closing salutations to the other woman, who was grinning at him.

It was good to be _home_.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Airport. 2am**

How Jordan had timed it to be just right was beyond Judas' comprehension, but at the same time he wasn't complaining.

He could see Xane.

They sized each other up from their opposite halls as people moved all around them, then joined each other at the intersection.

"Glad you're still alive," Xane noted.

"Harder to kill me than that," Judas retorted as they hugged briefly.

"Lets get out of here," Xane suggested, moving toward the area Jordan always used to pick them up.

"It'll be good to be back with everyone," Judas noted tiredly as he yawned.

"You don't know the recruits yet, either," Xane agreed.

"That's right, you _have_ been back, asshole."

"You're the man that made his own mission," Xane retorted...but they both spotted Jordan before Judas could reply.

"Ha! I knew it'd work!" Jordan informed his wife proudly.

"Which is why I told you to do it," Chai agreed.

Jordan grinned at her, moving forward to accept Judas' hug before hugging Xane as Jude moved to Chai.

"Watch it, now," Chai warned happily, pinching her husband's rear.

He laughed happily at that, relinquishing his friend as Jude remained in close. He was giving her enough room to move, but not much more than that. "You need to watch it, too," he suggested.

Judas blushed and moved away.

"What?" Chai asked blankly, looking up.

"Welcome home, huh?" Jor asked the guy.

Judas shook his head at that.

"Come on," Jordan suggested. "Let's go get your shit. You're all mean and leaving me tomorrow, so let's get you home so you don't crash on the drive."

"_Your_ family _lives_ on the base!" Xane protested. "That's not exactly the most convenient thing for _us_!"

"But I wanted you all to myself for Christmas!" Jordan retorted.

"Well, when you put it that way..." Xane muttered suggestively, moving in to slide under his arm.

Jordan started laughing.

"You're horrible," Chai noted, giving him a look.

"You're adorable," Xane retorted, smiling sweetly at her.

She grinned back, moving under Judas' arm. "It's good to have you back. I was getting worried about you being gone so long."

"It's not so bad there," Judas noted almost hesitantly. "I get sick of...of...not speaking English." He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I'm damn tired."

"At least you only have to spend two days with your family," Jordan noted happily. "Then you can come back and meet the kiddos."

"Yeah," Judas agreed happily. "It'll be nice to...see my mom."

"I'm sorry you can't come in more," Jordan told him quietly. "I really am."

Judas gave him a faint smile. "I'm the man that made my own mission."

- -

E/N: Yay! It finally let me update! And log in! Anyway, I put two up because I hadn't even meant to go this long without an update. Though I've only gotten to chapter 30 written, but I hit a block of sorts and am visiting with family (tis the season), so at a later point there might be anohter interuption. Anyway, yeah, I hope you're enjoying this, and happy holidays!


	24. 24

— 24 —

**December 23, A.C. 204. Base. 3:30am**

Riley, Raul, and Danielle were waiting in Jordan's living room when the group arrived at the base, and the reunion of the five was very quiet. They didn't need to talk. A few hugs were exchanged before Judas sank to the floor between the blankets Riley and Danielle had set up for themselves. Raul was laying behind Riley, and after a few brief moments, Chai brought out the extra mattress things and more blankets so the group could just crash.

Jordan was quietly pleased by that. He hadn't been sure how well the group would meld together after such a long separation, but it was obvious that the others had just missed Judas.

"You like...delight in doing that to me, don't you?" Quatre asked him quietly in Japanese.

"Not really, but there was no way around it when they decided to stay over," Jordan returned, ruffling his hair. "It's not bad, is it?"

Quatre frowned, studying Judas. "I guess not, no...but...something's off."

"Maybe since they've been gone so long?" Jordan hazarded. "Getting back together and all?"

"Maybe," Quatre returned, noting that Xane was watching him. "I'm going back to bed."

"Sorry," Jordan said quickly. "I didn't put that much thought into it."

Quatre nodded at him and winked to the new arrivals, then closed his bedroom door and went to collapse again.

It was probably a good thing Paris hadn't stayed over again. Whatever was off probably would have bugged him all night, where Quatre could focus away from it...and drift back into sleep.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"Chai, I love you..." Xane muttered, opening his eyes as the smell of French toast surrounded him.

"I love you, too, dear," Chai returned from her bedroom door with a toothbrush in her mouth and her hair wrapped in a towel...and her body, actually.

Xane sat up to blink at her as the others started mumbling about the food. "You're not cooking?"

"Sorry, I can't be in two places at once," she noted, then disappeared back into the bathroom...as Quatre's laughter came from the kitchen.

Xane climbed from the floor carefully, moving around the divide to look at the blond, who was happily flipping pieces of bread on a griddle. "I'll love you, if you want me to," he noted, studying the guy's bare back with interest.

"We can talk about it later," Quatre returned wickedly, then started laughing.

"Now now, don't talk about trysts with little ones present," Jordan reprimanded, moving from his bathroom in jeans, using his towel to dry his neck and arms.

"Yes, they woke me up," Quatre returned easily to Xane's unspoken question.

Jordan sniggered and closed the bedroom door.

"Isn't that weird?" Xane asked curiously, moving to sit at the breakfast bar. "When they're..."

"Not really," Quatre returned, shrugging. "They actually love each other, so it's more of that I feel than...lust or anything, you know? It's weird to wake up because the guy in the next room over is with someone that he doesn't love...which I got a lot of when we lived together," he gestured toward the old apartment.

"How have you been?"

Quatre shrugged, tossing some of the bread onto a plate beside him. "Work and play...not much else."

Xane grinned at him.

"Mm, General," Riley breathed, moving into the kitchen as she breathed in the air.

Quatre sniggered. "Watch it, girlie. I'm not above a one-night stand."

Riley laughed delightedly as she ran her hand from one of Xane's shoulders to the other–she was walking past him. She sat on his far side.

"Good morning, good morning," Danielle muttered, moving in to lean against Xane's back and study the shirtless blond. "You have quite the body, don't you?"

Quatre's eyes flashed wickedly at her and he nodded his head slightly at Xane.

"Oh, but it could be funny," Xane protested.

"Just _do_ it," Quatre retorted.

Xane rolled his eyes and slid from his stool as Danielle blinked at him. Judas was sitting up on the mattress thing and Raul was standing as Xane went through the living room, muttering to each other. He grabbed a shirt from Quatre's dresser and gestured for the others to follow him as he returned.

"Thanks," Quatre muttered, pulling it on and flashing them all an amused look.

"You sleep well?" Riley asked.

"After I got used to the additions," he gestured at Judas and Xane. "Hey," he added to Jude.

"Hi, Quatre," Judas returned, moving to sit beside Xane. Danielle had taken his previous seat, so Raul leaned against the end of the counter.

"You okay?" Quatre asked, studying his eyes.

"You wouldn't ask that unless you had a reason," Judas noted, leaning forward and crossing his arms to rest his chin against them. "What is it?"

"You feel almost...turned off," Quatre returned. "Your emotions are...smothered."

"I've been pretending to be someone I'm not for a while now, huh?"

"I guess. Maybe by the time you get back you'll be all right."

"I'm not looking forward to the drive," Xane agreed with a sigh. "It needs to be another two hour flight."

They all looked at him curiously.

"My flight left at midnight...and got in at two," he noted. "It seemed to take a lot longer..."

They all gave him amused looks with rolled eyes.

He laughed slightly at that, rubbing at his eyes as he thought. "What's going on around here?"

"Not too much," Riley returned. "We all decided to put off our trips home until today so we could see you two."

"That explains why he said we were all abandoning him," Jude noted to Xane.

Xane nodded.

"Shit, his family is here anyway," Quatre retorted, then sighed tiredly. "He's not letting me steal Chai."

They all gave him curious looks.

"Every couple years I have to go home for Christmas myself," Quatre explained. "This happens to be one of those years. By the time I get back I'm gonna be a nut case."

"By the time you get back?" Raul and Riley asked at the same time, then grinned at each other.

"Hahaha," Quatre retorted, pointing at them with the spatula he was holding warningly. He blinked at the griddle, then shook his head and turned to pull down the pile of plates. It only took him a moment to have everything set on the counter and he started to move the plate of made food toward them, then hesitated when they all looked ready to pounce. "Judas gets first grabs."

Judas felt a rush of familiar amusement and laughed happily, using his stool to lean forward and grab a plate as the others complained about how that wasn't fair for obscure or nonsensical reasons.

He was _home_...he really _was_...

"That's better," Quatre noted to him with a smile as he turned back to his cooking.

Better...yeah.

Judas slathered an almost obscene amount of butter on his food as the others whined at him to hurry up, then laughed as he spread a light layer of syrup over that.

"Oh stop," Chai swatted his rear. "Don't be cruel."

Judas turned to give her a disbelieving look, which let the others dive in for their food.

Jordan was smirking from the bedroom door, still shirtless. He had his arms extended above his head so his hands were resting above the door.

"Oh get _dressed_ already," Quatre grumbled at him. "We all know you got laid so stop shoving it in our faces."

Jordan laughed delightedly, then disappeared into the bedroom.

"He's horrible," Chai noted, moving around the counter to join Quatre. "Should I bother making eggs or sausage?"

They all stopped eating to stare at her with wide eyes.

"That'd be an 'oh my god, yes,'" Quatre noted, giving them all amused looks.

Chai giggled slightly, then moved to the fridge.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Base. 11am**

"Simone!"

Simone looked up happily at the greeting from Quatre, flashing him a smile.

"Good morning, Simone," Jordan greeted her. He'd opened the door at her knock.

"Morning, Sir," she returned sweetly, allowing him to shut the door behind her. "Max and Trent will be coming shortly."

"They still call him sir?" Judas asked Xane and Raul blankly. "Didn't we get over that damn quick?"

"They're over achievers," Raul dismissed it.

Simone, however, had focused on Judas with very wide eyes.

"Simone," Jordan noted, moving closer. "This is first lieutenant Judas Ifhera. Jude, this is Simone Moreau."

Judas stood and smiled, offering her his hand. "Nice to meet you."

She stared at him in amazement a moment longer before shaking his hand quickly.

"How are you?" Quatre muttered, sounding a bit less than pleased.

Jordan turned to look at him with interest, then smirked.

"I'm...fine," she noted, then looked back to Judas. "How long have you been gone?"

"I went to Germany back in September," Judas returned easily. "How long have you been around?"

She smiled slightly at that, brushing her hair from her face as she studied his. "They told me I'd be meeting with the general in early October. It wasn't until mid October that we started meeting, though."

"You can't be too bad if he's kept you, then," Judas noted. He wasn't trying to be mean or anything, but Quatre's chagrin at the girl's attention was kinda funny.

The blond stormed from the room as Riley covered her face with a hand.

Simone blinked at her, then looked around, noting that Quatre was gone and stopping.

"Excuse me," Judas muttered to her, then turned to follow the blond.

Quatre's arms were crossed as he glowered at the guy.

'Hey,' Judas mouthed, shaking his head. 'I'm not doing a damn thing.'

Quatre gave him a level look, turning back to the fridge.

"She knows French, and Spanish proper," Jordan noted, moving up behind. "Get me something, huh, Cat?"

"Leave me alone," Quatre grumbled, though the only place he had to storm to was the far corner.

"Come on," Jor wheedled in Japanese. "He's her superior and she's never seen him."

"She's all sorts of delighted," Quatre agreed grumpily.

Judas frowned between them, getting his superior a drink.

"Is she usually happy to see you?"

Quatre nodded, focusing on his can.

"And she wasn't?"

"She was all amazed at the wonder boy," Quatre retorted, gesturing toward Judas.

"So you're throwing a tantrum?"

Quatre glowered at him.

Jordan winked, taking the can he was offered. He started to turn away, then gestured toward the fridge with his head. "Get her something."

"I haven't gotten to talk to her for more than two minutes," Judas protested.

Jordan gave him a briefly confused look, then made a gesture at him. "I didn't say get something she likes, I said to get her something, sheesh."

"She likes Sprite," Quatre grumbled.

"I'm not _doing_ anything," Judas protested at him.

"Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?" Quatre asked all but flatly.

Judas gave him an upset look, then took the can back into the living-room...as he realized he should have grabbed stuff for the whole team.

"Thank you!" Simone said, all sorts of delighted when he passed it to her.

Xane, who was standing behind her, raised one hand to beside his head and let his head fall to one side with his tongue hanging out–like he was being hung, then bounced around the pair into the kitchen.

Judas...didn't actually appreciate that.

- -

**December 23, A.C. 204. Base. 12pm**

Quatre felt better about the whole ordeal when Trent and Max showed up, both about as excited to see Judas as Simone had been. Actually, as soon as they showed up, Simone found Quatre to talk to quietly. Unfortunately, she was asking a damn lot about Judas.

Quatre sighed as he moved back into his bedroom with the girl tailing him. He had his bag packed already, and just had some shower things to put into it, plus the other toiletries around the bedroom.

"You're leaving?" she asked blankly, studying the duffel.

"I have to go out to the L-4 cluster," he agreed. "I have family up there and they start muttering when I don't come back every couple years...I thought I told you that."

"I didn't realize you were _going_, though," she noted, sitting at the foot of his bed to frown at him. "I'm here for Christmas...I was...well, _when_ are you leaving?"

"In about a half hour," he replied, glancing at his watch with a sigh.

Her eyes had gone dreamy again. "What's it like on the colonies?"

"Warmer," he returned dryly, turning to grab his small diamond stud. Getting his ear pierced twice had disgusted a few of his sisters, like Ainslie, so he was sure to wear his biggest gaudiest studs every time he went home.

"Are those diamonds?" she asked blankly, studying them.

"What do you think I'd buy? Cubic zirconium?" he retorted before he thought about it.

Simone was stung, but he wasn't done being annoyed about _Judas_ yet.

"Oh..."

"Sorry," he muttered after a moment when she remained quiet, fitting the larger one in. "I don't _want_ to go home." Actually, he didn't want to have to deal with Ainslie and Karen...or the other ones who disapproved of him, but it more or less amounted to the same in the end.

"You still call it home?"

"Only in the sense that it was where I grew up," he said with a sigh, digging through his jewelry box for a good bracelet.

"You said you were leaving in a half hour?" she asked quietly.

He nodded, hooking a bracelet around his wrist before sighing and turning to the top drawer of his dresser. He pulled out the present he'd gotten for her and offered it hesitantly.

"Oh, Quatre!" she protested. "You didn't have to..."

"I don't have to do anything," he noted, smiling slightly at her. "I do what I want."

She smiled at that, taking it from him before meeting his eyes. "Want me to open it now?"

"It's kinda hard to watch you do it from the colonies," he noted.

She smiled briefly at that before starting to carefully un-tape the ends.

Actually, he could have over the vid, but he preferred to do things like that in person. He liked the read for something like that.

It didn't take her too long to open the thing...and stare at it in wonder.

It was just a necklace...

"These...are real?" she half-whispered, looking up to him with wide eyes.

He nodded slightly with a smile. "I don't buy fake things."

He felt her slightly embarrassed chagrin at that, then she bit her lip and looked up to him. "I have you something...but I didn't realize you were leaving."

"_You_ didn't have to," he shot at her, giving her a look.

She smiled slightly, blushing a bit.

"You want to wait until I get back?" he asked after a moment. It was harder to read her emotions because she was still embarrassed about the fake comment and pleased about the necklace.

"If you...want to," she noted, raising her head to study his eyes.

He smiled slightly at that, giving her a sort of flirty look...which made her giggle and jump up to hug him tightly.

"Put this on me," she added, pulling back to raise her hair.

She smelled good...

Quatre took the necklace carefully and slid the ends around her neck, meeting her eyes briefly before latching it there...and pulled her into another hug, nuzzling at her ear.

She made a cute little noise, then pulled away with another light blush. "Wait for me. I'll get it."

"All right," he returned, studying her eyes.

"I'll drive you," Jordan offered happily...which made them both jump hard.

"Cat is leaving in about ten minutes," Jordan noted happily. "So let's make this quick Suzie-Q."

Simone blushed even harder before darting from the room.

Quatre gave Jordan a look, which the man returned calmly. He was amused about whatever part he'd witnessed, and Quatre didn't really appreciate that.

Jordan laughed and half stuck his tongue out at his friend, then turned and followed the girl from the room.

- -

**December 24, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"We're _getting_ a tree next year," Chai informed Jordan as they walked hand in hand down the street. Almost every house had its curtains opened and trees in the window. "And we're _decorating_."

"Trees are over-rated," Jordan returned.

"I've never _had_ one," she shot back, stopping to look at him.

He stared at her in amazement. When they were in Angels, it hadn't been something that came up because Christmas was just another day that was too cold without money for presents. The tree they enjoyed was the one at the bar where Jon was, and the presents they got were _from_ Jon.

Actually, Jor needed to call him to set up a time for them to meet. He'd meant to the day before, but getting everyone where they needed to be had been distracting.

"You don't like trees?" she added, frowning at him.

"I just...don't _usually_ have one," he returned, blinking more at her. "We had them at the church...but after that was the wars...hell, I lost track of Christmas during the wars...and living here none of us ever got them."

"Are they really a hassle?" she asked, looking to one that was sparkling across the road from them.

"Not too bad," he admitted. "They can be if you forget to water them so the needles all fall off."

She looked back to the tree across the street from them as she moved into his arms. "We have a vacuum."

"I suppose," he admitted, thinking about it.

"Jordan?" she asked quietly, resting her cheek against his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Angels was bad, right? I lived there _all_ my life. The wars only made it worse, and I was really little."

"I suppose," he agreed quietly.

"You didn't live there," she said quietly, pulling back to meet his eyes. "You know what it's like to live away from there and I'm still getting used to it. I know something like a tree isn't all that important to you...but sometimes...I want holidays to be like you see on tv, you know? The family getting together and unwrapping present after present, everything they wanted for Christmas...maybe some roses on Valentine's day...to hide eggs on Easter...to _dye_ eggs on Easter."

He ran his hands down her face, leaning in to kiss her, then smiled slightly. "I want to give you everything you want."

She smiled back at that.

"I have to go do some run around stuff with Chance," he lied glumly, making it sound like an admittance. "You want to hang out with Shin and Chip?"

"I guess," she muttered, frowning more at him. "What do you have to do on Christmas Eve?"

"Last minute gift shopping," he shrugged as he started leading her back to the house, pulling out his phone and hitting the one.

"Hey, Jor," Chance greeted on the second ring. "What's up?"

"You ready to go?" Jordan asked.

Chance hesitated, and Jordan knew he was trying to figure out where they were supposed to be going. "I...guess," he said after a moment."

"Good, me'n Chai will get back to the house in about two minutes. Meet me at my car."

"All right," Chance said a little more certainly as he hung up.

He was at Jordan's car as they neared the house, and he smiled happily at Chai as she moved toward his place. They said a couple greetings across the yard, then she disappeared inside.

"Get in," Jordan ordered, sliding into the machine and turning it on.

"What's going on?" Chance pouted at him. "We were being all family-y."

"Chai only _just_ told me she really wanted a tree...she's never had one before."

Chance blinked at that.

"So I need your help," Jordan added, frowning at him. "I didn't mean to interrupt and stuff, but..."

"Maybe we should get two, then," Chance suggested, thinking about it. "I don't know that Shin's ever had a tree, but I didn't even think about it this year."

"Same here," Jordan agreed, deciding the car was warmed up enough to back out. "I claimed last minute gift shopping."

"I figured you would," Chance reassured him. "It was my claim, too. Jor...I don't even know _how_ to go about getting a tree."

"Considering how severely last moment this is," Jordan noted, meeting his eyes, "I don't think it honestly matters."

Chance grinned at him.

Jor shook his head, tossing his phone to his friend. "On February fourteenth, set the timer for ten and make the reminder say roses for me..."

"What were you two _talking_ about?" Chance asked blankly, navigating through the menus.

"She informed me that we're having a tree next year, then reminded me that she wants the holidays like you see on tv."

"They make it cloying on tv," Chance protested, glancing at him as they pulled up to the gate and waved at Duty, who saluted in greeting and let them out.

"I think her holiday experiences are all the bad kinds that you see in movies," Jor noted, sliding up to the stop sign. "You don't know how it's like in Angels...it's bad. We never had a tree the entire time I was down there, and the only time we had presents...shit, give me that."

"What?" Chance asked blankly as the message saved.

"I have to call Jon," Jordan explained, hitting the seven. "He was the only person who could afford presents, and I want to have a supper with him or something."

"Oh, all right," Chance slid down in his seat and looked out the window. "Where the hell are we going to get _two_ trees?"

"We're gods, Chance," Jordan reminded him with a brief grin. "We can do anything...even if it _is_ finding an axe."


	25. 25

— 25 —

**December 24, A.C. 204. L-4. 12pm**

"Nice of you to decide to join us for lunch," Ainslie muttered darkly to Quatre as he moved into the room.

"Nice of you to tell me we were having it," Quatre shot back irritably.

It was almost nice to be in the familiar surroundings again, the feel of the colony was different from the feel of the earth. Anyway, Quatre had gone out to try to find one of his sisters, Caitlyn, to help him pick up the last minute crap, and had ended up running around with Enica and Keya. Enica and Keya, though not twins, were both twenty-six. Enica had a little four-year-old named Ava, who had commandeered her uncle like a lovely little slave driver and he'd spent a pleasant afternoon finding Christmas lights for her enjoyment.

"Considering that there are so many of us and you _are_ the patriarch," Ainslie noted pointedly, "I figured you'd make time to see us all."

"It's not like the clock will strike midnight on Christmas day and I'll vanish," Quatre reminded her pointedly, raising an eyebrow at her. "Besides, if you wanted my attentions so badly, you know how to call."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Did you have fun?" Bailey asked, waving Ainslie off.

"Yes, I was trying to find Caitlyn to help me find some stuff and ran into Enica and Keya...so I've been running around with Ava."

"It's nice to know you have a favorite," Ainslie snapped.

Quatre stopped to look at her.

"Do I need to remind you that you have fifty one _other_ nieces and nephews on the grounds?"

Quatre scratched his forehead a moment as he considered that, then shrugged at her. "I seem to recall that in an hour or so I get to go _read_ to at least twenty five of those and I don't recall being asked if I wanted to do it."

"Oh, Quatre," Margarite muttered, moving to wrap her arms around the shoulder. "Please don't fuss."

Quatre sighed, submitting to the embrace.

"We've got the older ones lined up to help you," she added, moving around to smile at him. "Come on, my Devon's rallied the troops and the lot of them are _excited_ to help their uncle with the little ones."

"I know," he admitted glumly, pulling away from her.

"Come on," she encouraged, poking at him in the arm. "We'll probably be sending a few back with you to the base, huh? I know that Sadie's boy Coy seems to be the same despondent jackass you were when you were sixteen."

"You didn't _know_ me when I was sixteen," he reminded her pointedly, giving her a look.

She receded, frowning slightly at him.

She hadn't seen him more than once or twice a year until after Une had gathered he and the other three pilots back up...though she hadn't been one who wanted to disinherit him.

"Sorry," he muttered, not liking that _she_ was upset. She was the oldest and had always acted fondly toward him, so she didn't deserve the foul temper.

"You're acting all angsty," Caitlyn noted, moving down the hall with her son Aldo behind her. "Were you looking for me?"

"Ooh, Caitlyn," he said, bouncing up slightly. "I need some help in the gift department..."

"On Christmas Eve?" she asked levelly, then looked to the ceiling. "Of _course_ you need help on Christmas Eve...why didn't you come earlier?"

"Because my friend had two guys coming back in from Europe and Asia that I wanted to greet."

"I don't believe that," Radeen noted, moving after her older sister.

"Maybe some of y'all forget," he noted, looking back into the lounge since he'd been leaving it when Margrite accosted him. "But I have this rank in the military...it's called general...lieutenant general, actually," he looked around at the group of them a moment. "It means that like...I tell everyone _else_ what to do?"

"Nice that you'll run some army group but not the empire your father sweat _blood_ to build," Ainslie muttered irritably.

"Ainslie," Margarite chided.

"I sweat blood to build _my_ empire, too," Quatre reminded her darkly. "I think I sweat more blood than our father."

Bailey looked away.

"Spilled it, more like," Ainslie snapped.

Quatre focused on her in something like disgust, then looked back to Radeen and Caitlyn. "Excuse me ladies," he said politely. "I need to go rinse the _blood_ off my hands."

And, with that, he shoved through the group of sisters toward the stairs.

- -

**December 24, A.C. 204. Base. 4pm**

"They've been gone a long time," Shin worried to Chai as they sat in Shin's living room. Unlike Chai's, Shin's furnishings were light in colors, including the carpeting. Also, the front door seemed almost to open into the main living area where Chai's opened into the hall...sort of. It hadn't taken either of the females long to notice that Jor and Chance's taste was very similar, so much so that they had the same entertainment center and bed.

Anyway, the houses were made from the same floor plan, so the only differences between them were the decorations inside of them.

"If they're really Christmas shopping," Chai noted, "it depends on how much they have to get."

"What do you mean if?" Shin asked nervously, looking back to her.

Chai blinked at that and shrugged. She'd forgotten how easy it had been for her to be unsure of Jordan the first few years they'd lived together. "It was just an explanatory saying," she returned. "Sorry...you don't have to _worry_ about what he's doing, Shin. He absolutely adores you and would never do anything to hurt you."

"On purpose," she agreed.

Chai rolled her eyes slightly at that, giving the woman an amused look.

"Sorry," Shin moved back to sit again. "We should start thinking about supper, huh?"

"You're coming over for supper tomorrow, right?" Chai asked, realizing they'd never finalized their plans.

"I actually have to go to my parents," Shin said, making a face. "If you want to do a brunch or something, though..."

Chai nodded, feeling disappointed by that. She'd called her own parents and had them come to her wedding, but there hadn't been any real love there. Chai's older brother had come, too, and that _had_ been pleasant. He'd been more engaged in the going ons than he had been since they were children. Actually, of her two brothers, the second oldest had noted he was busy and couldn't make the wedding, and had noted it was stupid of her to marry _Jordan_ anyway before hanging up.

She had no intentions of inviting her parents or _him_ for Christmas.

"I wasn't going to," Shin confided nervously. "I was going to tell _them_ we should do a brunch...but it's my parents, you know?"

"I understand," Chai reassured her. "You get along with your parents...I'll have Wufei and Trowa anyway."

Shin nodded, still looking sad.

"So what should we eat for our brunch?" Chai asked, deciding to move on. "We can call Jordan and Chance and get them to pick it up before they come in."

"Ooh, good idea," Shin brightened as well.

- -

**December 24, A.C. 204. L-4. 5pm**

"You're not planning to buy stuff for _all_ of them, are you?" Caitlyn asked Quatre tiredly as they moved to a cash register.

"I got people to buy stuff at the beginning of the month," he admitted quietly. "I took the lists you all sent me and..."

"Doesn't that seem sad to you?" Caitlyn asked quietly, studying his face.

He met her eyes and looked away uncomfortably with a shrug. "There are fifty-two children between the twenty-eight of you...I can only do _so_ much, and no matter what I do, Ainslie will find fault with it."

"So instead of trying, you admit defeat to _her_?" the woman shook her head as the cashier started ringing up their items.

"I was informed that this stuff couldn't be found," he noted, indicating the stuff he was buying. "It's not stuff sold commonly on earth."

"You can't let Ainslie get to you, Quatre," she chided, moving around him to start loading the bags back into the cart. "Are we done here?"

"Not entirely," he said, meeting her eyes. "Well, _we_ are, but I think I want to go grab Ember...Lisette's girl is Ember, right? The sixteen year old?"

Caitlyn blinked at him blankly.

"No one had a girl the right age," he hazarded, realizing that his idea wasn't entirely flawless. Actually, taking one of his nieces with him to go find his girlfriend a present didn't seem to work somehow. He rubbed the toe of one foot against his leg as he waited for her decision on emotion.

"Why Ember, though?" she asked curiously.

He fidgeted some, passing his card to the cashier.

"I knew it," she said in triumphant amusement. "That's why you waited and that's why you're so pissy." She considered him a moment, then leaned forward so he had to look at her. "_Please_ tell me she's older than Ember?"

"Nineteen," he returned, taking his card back and avoiding his sister's eyes. "She's in Jordan's group."

Caitlyn sniggered slightly, touching his face with an affectionate hand. "Are you two serious?"

"We're nothing yet," he noted, looking down. "I...I only hugged her yesterday before I came."

"That's sweet," Caitlyn noted, messing more with his hair. "I'll tell you what, though. Ember's too young yet."

Quatre blinked at her.

"You'd have better luck with Keya or one of them...there's a maturity gap between sixteen and nineteen, and if your girl is on a team, she's not going to be entirely immature."

He frowned, then nodded.

"So what's her name?" Caitlyn added, turning to put the last bag into the cart as he signed.

"Simone," Quatre noted, considering the girl.

Caitlyn laughed wickedly, running her fingertips along his shoulder. It was the sweater Simone'd gotten for him. "That's where this came from, isn't it?"

"What?" Quatre demanded sharply, looking back to her. "What do you mean by that?"

"Quatre," she said seriously, studying his eyes happily. "This is synthetic material."

He flashed her a grin and shook his head hard, wishing the cashier a merry Christmas.

"And since she got you this, even though it's crap," she noted, plucking at the material, "you want to get her something?"

"Or something," he agreed grudgingly. "It's not crap."

She blinked at him with her eyebrows arched slightly. "I'm pretty sure I saw it on sale a week ago for twenty dollars."

"She's not made of money," Quatre defended the girl quickly. "Come on, Caitlyn, just because it's not my norm doesn't mean it's entirely bad."

"I think that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," she noted happily, starting to push the cart as he shoved the receipt into his wallet.

"What do you mean by that?" he protested at her, catching up.

She laughed a slightly wicked laugh and patted his cheek. "Let's go call the girls and see what they can make of your little crush."

"She's not a crush," he retorted. "And we're not telling _all_ of them!"

- -

**December 24, A.C. 204. Base. 6pm**

"Yes, I have it all in the fridge," Jor muttered into his phone as he and Chance tried to get the tree to stand level in its stand. "I'll call you when we're done wrapping, all right?"

"Okay," Chai agreed almost dubiously as she hung up.

"Thank god for kiosks," Chance muttered from where he was on the floor messing with the clamps.

"Chai wrapped up the rest of it, too," Jor agreed.

"Fuck," Chance muttered irritably, moving from under the thing. "This is annoying, let's trade."

"Fine," Jor muttered, waiting for his friend to take the tree and moving below it to work the twists. "So we'll run to the canteen with the one thing we forgot, have them come over to admire our handiwork...and then go set up your place?"

"If we can swing it," Chance agreed, considering the tree. "You sure we got enough lights?"

"No," Jor returned promptly, moving back. "Try it."

The tree...slumped badly to the left.

They both groaned.

"This is going to take longer than we thought," Jor noted, studying the beast almost skeptically.

"Just think of Chai," Chance suggested. "We'll figure it out as long as we keep in my _why_ we're doing this."

"Yeah," Jor agreed tiredly. "Good idea."

- -

**December 24, A.C. 204. Base. 8pm**

"They're so incredibly special," Chai muttered to Shin as Chip bounced where he stood. "They left the lights on."

Shin flashed her an understanding smile...as she opened the door.

They both froze.

"What?" Zach asked, darting between them to step into the house, then squeak in delight. "A tree!" he shouted, starting to jump up and down.

Not only was it a tree, though, but it was almost fully decorated with lights around it...and the walls.

All of the presents were under it.

"Oh, Chai," Shin breathed, moving into the house and shutting the door as she stared around. "Oh..."

Chai was laughing, though she was crying slightly, moving to pick up Chip and stare at the thing in amazement.

The door opened again and Jordan moved in with Chance behind him, smiling a little abashedly.

"Oh, Jordan," Chai muttered, setting the boy down and moving into his arms as she started crying genuinely.

"I..." Jordan started, then swallowed slightly himself. He couldn't bring himself to talk, he felt severely choked up, so he just pulled her in closer to his chest.

"Sorry," Chance apologized, pulling Shin into his hug. "We had to lie to you."

She laughed lightly, moving into his arms as she shook her head.

"You guys wanna hang out here so we _can_ wrap?" he added after a moment.

"You're horrible," Chai announced, pulling away to give _him_ a hug.

Jordan smiled slightly at Chip, who was looking at him, then nodded at the tree in question.

The boy grinned at him.

He winked back and sighed, turning to hug Chai again. "We'll be back in a while."

She laughed a bit, leaning forward to kiss him, then buried her face in his throat. It took her a moment to pull away before she smiled and touched his face, then nodded.

He smiled more at her, happy that he'd pleased her, then kissed her for good measure and started for the door...to which Chance yanked him hard to make him follow instead of going back for another kiss.

"We don't have the time for this," Chance whispered at him, jogging toward the car. They'd parked it in Chance's drive in preparation. "I don't think they'll wait happily there for a very long time."

"I'm sorry, I just made one of my wife's wishes come true, I wanted a moment to _bask_ in it..."

"You can bask in it all night," Chance retorted. "Give me the opportunity since I helped _you_..."

"I didn't say I wasn't helping," Jor whispered back as they hauled the tree off the top of the car. "I said I wanted a moment to appreciate my wife enjoying something I did for her..."

They continued in that vein, though they were working very quickly and quietly the entire time. Since they'd had to fight with Jor's tree as long as they had, they'd figured out a quicker way to get it done the second time, which meant that they were quicker about getting all but the last decorations up on that as well.

"So you can watch initially," Chance noted. "But as soon as we put Chip to bed you need to get gone."

"Orgy-boy telling me to leave?" Jor teased as he tacked a string of lights to the wall.

"Well, if you _want_..." Chance started in a hesitant sort of suggestion that was a complete lie.

"Hahaha," Jor retorted, moving the chair along the wall.

"You left yourself open for it and you know it," Chance retorted. He was hanging a strand along the far wall. "Besides, if you wanted to, I'm sure Shin wouldn't mind."

Jor stopped, turning to look at him.

"What?" Chance demanded, grinning wickedly at him. "You pointed out yourself that I went from her house to Sins, and it's not like we had any one on one when she got pregnant with our _son_."

Jor returned a _very_ dark look, which made Chance start laughing as he stepped down to move his chair along the wall.

"You _think_ you're funny," Jor noted pointedly. "But I don't believe it."

"You will," Chance reassured him happily. "Believe me, you will..." he trailed off, thinking a moment. "If we do this like this next year, let's do it _before_ Christmas Eve."

"I think next year she'll want to pick it for us," Jor reassured him. "I'll make her wait until thanksgiving, though."

Chance laughed a little at that, and they went back to their work.


	26. 26

— 26 —

**December 25, A.C. 204. Base. 7am**

"Santa came!" Chip squealed delightedly from the living room. "Mom! Dad! Santa came!"

Chance groaned as he pulled himself away from his wife, blinking blearily around the bedroom before realizing why his son was shouting about Santa Clause.

He grinned slightly.

"What?" Shin asked blankly, sitting up. "What's he talking about?"

"Santa came in the form of one next-door neighbor," Chance whispered back, climbing from the bed and pulling his pajama pants on.

"What?" Shin asked blankly.

"I got Jor to bring it over last night," Chance whispered back. "Come on, I'm shocked he remembered."

"You _were_ the busy pair last night, weren't you?" she muttered, pulling on her robe and following him.

"What do you mean, Santa came?" Chance asked happily, moving into the kitchen.

"It _says_ an S like that!" Chip declared, bouncing up and down as he stood beside the large box. "Your name isn't like that, and Mom's name isn't like that! And this wasn't here last _night_!"

"Ooh, I guess you _were_ a good boy this year," Shin noted, moving around to hug him with a smile.

To him, her name had two Ms in it...he couldn't read yet, but he was getting there.

"Can I open it?" he asked, looking between his parents almost breathlessly.

Chance nodded his approval, and Chip looked excitedly to Shin.

She smiled at him.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, then tore into the packaging.

Chance grinned at that, then noticed the plate of cookies and milk the child had insisted be left out. The glass was empty, and all but the last cookie was gone. The last cookie had a bite taken out of it, too.

That made the former pilot roll his eyes very slightly, though he _did_ appreciate it. That, and Jor's forethought of disabling the warning beep for the front door.

"Whoa!" Chip exclaimed as the box for the toy mobile suit was revealed. It wasn't a technical mobile suit, not one of the war type ones, but it was one used in a cartoon the child watched. One he'd been dying to have and had asked Santa for at the mall.

"Wow," Chance muttered, moving forward to set the box up right. "He got it for you! I didn't think he would!"

Chip laughed happily, obviously too excited to know what to do with himself before throwing himself into Chance's arms. It only took him a few moments to re-gather himself, and then his eyes went wide and he looked to his father's face. "Now?" he whispered.

"Yeah, now," Chance agreed.

Shin gave Chance a curious look and the man nodded his head at the child, who had run across to the entertainment center and pulled a cupboard opened.

"What are you doing, baby?" Shin asked curiously.

"We _got_ this for you!" Chip exclaimed, pulling the box from the thing and carefully carrying it to his mother. It was wrapped, but it was their surprise present.

"Oh, baby..." Shin muttered, pulling him into a pleased hug before looking up to Chance with smiling eyes.

He smiled back at her, wondering if anyone else would think she really _was_ the most beautiful woman in the world. He'd heard Jor say something similar about Chai though...so maybe it was just him.

- -

**December 25, A.C. 204. L-4. 7am**

"Thank you _so_ much!" a girl that stood about to the bottom of his rib cage threw herself around Quatre's neck to hug him gratefully for a toy he supposed was from him.

The empath was surrounded by love and affection, excitement and mild disappointment from all corners as all of his nieces and nephews tore into their mounds of packages. Not only them, though, but his sisters and gazillion brothers-in-law.

He didn't have Jordan to hide behind either.

He smiled at the little girl, not entirely sure whose she was. "It's no problem, baby. I hope you like it."

He couldn't puke _now_ of _**all**_ times...

The little girl ran off happily.

"Quatre?" one of his brother-in-laws asked, focusing back on him.

Quatre shook his head, climbing from his seat shakily.

"Did you drink last night?" Karen demanded from a ways away.

"Quatre, are you all right?"

The switch of just about everyone to concern was worse than everything else, and Quatre stumbled almost blindly from the room with them all calling after him.

He _did_ make it into the hall before he threw up, at least.

"Did we eat something bad?" a boy about fifteen or sixteen asked, following him into the hall and recoiling at the mess as the various servants in attendance scurried to clean.

"Quatre?" Karen demanded.

"Leave the door closed!" he snapped, moving back to it to grab the handle...as the boy puked too.

"Coy?" one of his sisters called through the door. "Coy?"

Coy? That was the one Margarite had been saying had empath powers, right?

Unfortunately, Coy was also emptying his stomach onto the floor.

It was so much nicer on the base for Christmas...so much quieter and so much more _controlled_.

A far door swung open, since they'd gathered in the ballroom for the gift exchange, and Karen came scurrying out to stop and stare in horror at the mess on the floor. "You _did_ drink...and..._Coy_?" she asked in disbelief before giving Quatre a very _dirty_ look.

Quatre returned it as best he could, accepting the cup of water from a scurrying maid with a thanks.

"That's _not_ what we meant by spending time with your kin," Karen noted to Quatre darkly.

"I didn't drink, Aunt Karen," Coy protested, frowning at her. "I think I ate something bad..."

"There's a chance that I _might_ be an empath," Quatre noted to his sister darkly, overriding the boy somewhat. "And such being the case, I'd be exposed to every emotion from every person within a thousand feet of me."

She blinked at him, probably remembering that little bit fact.

"And it's altogether possible," he added, "that the trait _runs_ in our family. And if it _does_ then there should be more than _one_ of those kids who can do it."

"Here," the maid muttered, placing a trashcan beside him. "Rinse your mouth out here, Master Quatre."

He cringed inwardly at the title, but didn't protest to her, doing as the woman suggested.

"Come on, Coy," he added to his nephew, moving carefully around the mess before kicking off his slippers. "We can go up to my suite and shower."

"Really?" that brightened the kid's outlook.

"Maybe you should check if his _mother_ is all right with that," Karen noted pointedly.

"I _am_ the family patriarch," he shot Ainslie's word's at her as he ushered the boy forward. "Besides, I'm pretty sure most of my sisters _remember_ that I'm not normal."

Karen glowered after them as Sadie moved into the hall to frown as well, though she also nodded her approval to her son.

"You think I might be an empath?" Coy asked quietly, blinking up at him as he caught up.

"It's entirely possible," Quatre returned. "I'm interested to know what you felt back there."

"When I came out with you it was concern, because you were puking...but you were mad, weren't you?"

"In a manner of speaking," Quatre agreed. "But in the ballroom, what did you feel in there?"

"Ill," the guy noted, shrugging slightly. "Every time someone moved I could feel it, and they were all excited..."

"Happy," Quatre noted. "Excited...disappointed?"

"It was...it _felt_ like a cloud of gnats or something," he looked to Quatre in concern.

"Gnats?" Quatre echoed, blinking at that.

It had felt like a field of bonfires to him...it had been everything from everywhere...except behind him.

His cell started ringing, and since he'd set his friends' to a certain tone to forewarn him, this noted it wasn't one of them. "Hello?"

"Quatre?" Margarite asked. "Are you all right? Is Coy?"

"I'm sorry," he said, noting that it was quiet behind her. "There were too many people in there and it made us sick...at least I think it made Coy sick. He saw me...and that might have been it."

"You going to be all right?" she asked gently.

"I'm feeling better now. We'll go shower before I try to brave that again...I'm sorry."

"All right," she said quietly...and he heard her start talking away from the phone as the line went dead.

"Who was that?" Coy asked curiously.

"Margarite," Quatre explained, turning toward the master wing. There were only three suites there, so he, Margarite and Kiley were taking them. Really, the third suite should have gone to Julie, because she was older than Kiley, but evidently the pair had worked out some sort of system where they traded off.

"Is it okay that I'm up here?" Coy asked hesitantly, looking around. "Mom says not to bother you guys."

"Bother?" Quatre returned, then grinned slightly at him. "Its fine, kid. This is my room, and in all reality I could claim this as my house."

Coy stopped as they entered the main room, looking around with interest. "Uncle Quatre?"

"Hm?" Quatre returned, pulling off his robe and heading for his room.

"You seem...mean...sometimes."

Quatre stopped to look at him.

Coy looked away with a shrug. "Sorry..."

"No," Quatre cut that off, studying him. "Don't apologize. What do you mean, mean?"

"You...we heard you telling Aunt Ainslie that you didn't want to read to the little ones...and you..."

"Mm," Quatre frowned slightly at him. "Your Aunt Ainslie and I don't get along...just like Karen."

"Why?"

"Because I know that war works and they're horrified by that," he returned, heading toward his bedroom again and grabbing the phone.

"Mr. Winner?" his butler answered happily. "I hear you messed up the hallway downstairs."

"I did seem to make a mess," he agreed. "But I wasn't the only one at fault...get Coy some clothing. He's Sadie's son, and he's going to shower up here in my suite."

"Okay," the man returned, seeming uncertain. "Anything you say...can I ask why?"

"Go ahead and use this shower," Quatre added to the boy, pointing at a second room. "Your clothes should be here by the time you're done."

"Thank you," he said quietly, disappearing into the room.

"Mr. Winner?"

"Because I think he's an empath and he was overwhelmed in there just the same as I was."

"Ah," the man agreed quietly. "He's not pestering you, is he?"

Quatre sighed, wishing he hadn't given them all the idea that he didn't like the various children. He was mostly fine with them one on one, or even in small groups. Actually, the mass of them hadn't even been bad because their excitement wasn't the same as all of the adults...and the older set was helping him controlling them.

"Mr. Winner?"

"He wouldn't be in my suite if he bothered me, all right? Just get him some clothes so we can go back down to the mass."

"All right," the guy agreed quickly. "Happy Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Quatre returned, hanging up as he started to strip and cross the room.

He couldn't wait to get _home_ again.

- -

**December 25, A.C. 204. Base. 1pm**

"I don't understand why, but it worked," Jordan was summing up a story to Chance.

"Chance?" Shin asked, looking pointedly at her watch as she started to stand. "Come on, Chip, we're going to Gramma's."

The little boy froze a brief moment before grinning at her and darting across the living room to get his shoes on.

"Thank you for the food, and the dress," Shin noted, moving to hug Jordan.

"Any time," Jordan reassured her. "I wish you could stay," he looked to Chance with a wicked grin. "She smells good."

Chance rolled his eyes as Shin laughed and smacked him before moving on to hug Trowa. The others were perfectly willing to hug her and meet her eyes, until she got to Simone, who had been sitting quietly the entire time she'd been over.

"Oh, stop that," Shin muttered, leaning down to offer her arms.

"I'm sorry," Simone muttered, bouncing up to hug her properly. "Merry Christmas."

"Hurry up and leave so we can do our gift exchange," Wufei ordered Chance happily.

Chance flipped him off, moving to hug Chai as Chip started making his rounds.

"We'll be back late," Chance noted to Jordan, kicking absently at Trowa's leg.

"Hey! I didn't _do_ anything this time!" Trowa protested.

"What are you talking about? It's affection," Chance retorted, then grinned at him and pretended the light kick Trowa returned hurt.

"Wow, you're special," Chai noted almost dryly.

"That _is_ affection," Paris noted, studying Chance with interest.

"They _would_ be what I consider my family," Chance returned, giving him an interested look.

Paris grinned back.

The group was larger than Chance had realized it would be. Paris, Morgan, Simone, Logan, and Wayne had also joined them. Jonathon Breer was going to show up for an hour or two, and while Chance had hoped it'd be earlier in the day, he figured he'd see the guy when he and Jordan _actually_ had their sit down supper in a few days time.

"Come on, buddy," Chance muttered, lifting his son from the floor with a fresh wave of disbelief and pleasure that it _was_ his son.

The moments were few and far between, but when they struck he felt fully proud that he'd supported Shin and helped her raise the child, even if their relationship hadn't been the best. He'd persevered, and now he had a lovely wife and son.

"Do you do that around Quatre?" Paris asked curiously.

Chance turned to give him a very level look as Shin waved one last time at the group, then he followed his wife from the house.

"Do what?" she asked as they moved back toward their place and the SUV.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Chance lied happily.

"Daddy, even _I_ can tell that's a lie," Chip noted, studying his face with interest.

"Shh," Chance shushed the child quickly with a happy smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chip grinned.

- -

**December 25, A.C. 204. Base. 7pm**

"So," Simone muttered quietly, looking between Jor, Trowa, and Wufei with interest. "Should I be leaving now?"

"If you have something better to do, feel free," Wufei returned, kicking his shoes off to stretch across his corner of the couch. "If not, make yourself comfortable."

"I'm not...imposing?" she asked, blinking at him.

"I'd have chased you off somehow or another if you were," Jor reassured her, kicking his own shoes off and stretching across the couch himself. "Shall we see what our blond friend is doing?" he added to Trowa.

"We should just wait for the tabloids to pick it up," Trowa suggested.

The rest of the gathered people had finally left, and Chai had wandered off with a muttered comment about making Jordan jealous. He'd responded to her words by claiming he'd get a replacement. Simone could tell it was an old joke, but she didn't quite understand the reference, especially when Chai took a load of laundry out to the garage.

"What?" Simone asked the guy in confusion.

"We'll hear all about what he's doing for the next month," Tro explained with a shrug, sinking lower into his chair. "The tabloids, at least, will make it entertaining."

"We'll have to pick one to believe," Jor noted, flicking the tv on.

"Who, though?" Simone asked blankly.

They all looked at her in disbelief.

She blanched slightly, wondering if it was all right that she felt stupid.

"Who...do we know that's blond?" Trowa asked her curiously.

"Um...Wayne Miller?" she offered.

"And?"

She considered the group a long moment. "Quatre?"

"Good job," he congratulated her like he was talking to a child.

"Don't mind him, he's an ass," Jordan reassured her, pointing at the screen.

Simone turned to look at a confusing amount of moving people before noticing Quatre himself...

The first thing she really noticed about his person was a very bright glint form his ear...a very large stone...but...he was wearing the sweater she got him!

She sat up excitedly.

"Look at her," Wufei whispered in Chinese. "She just lit up completely."

"Leave her alone," Jordan reprimanded. He thought her crush was damn cute, and the fact that Quatre was showing more than casual interest in her was pleasing to him. She didn't need to be embarrassed that she liked the guy, even if Quatre would get teased.

"He's got to be bored out of his damn skull," Trowa noted, pulling his phone out and looking to the others with a raised eyebrow. "Shall we entertain him?"

Jor shrugged indifferently, shifting to lay more properly across the couch.

The feed showed Quatre's attention shifting before he excused himself from the group and stepped away with his back to the camera.

"Hello?" they all heard him.

"No," Trowa said quickly. "Get back to your position. I'm using that rock on your ear for target practice."

Simone turned disbelieving eyes onto him.

Quatre didn't move for a moment before his shoulder started shaking and he turned to look around the area of the camera.

"No, no," Trowa said when he'd looked past. "Back two."

Quatre's focus changed very slightly before he looked directly at the camera.

Wufei and Jordan started laughing.

"What do you want?" Quatre asked as the woman commentating buzzed excitedly about the attention.

"You looked bored," Trowa returned. "Come on, you haven't even called us once to let us know how you were."

"I puked this morning," he noted, giving the camera a sort of quirky happy look. "It kicked ass."

Simone looked disbelievingly back to Trowa.

"One of my older nephews puked, too. We're not sure if it's because I was puking though."

"I'm so glad he's proud of that," Jordan noted.

"I can't read lips," Simone protested, looking back to Jordan.

Jordan rested his finger against his lips and pointed at Trowa.

"Mm, there's someone here who wants to talk to you," Trowa noted happily.

"Simone?" Quatre asked, instantly focusing on the phone.

Trowa laughed slightly wickedly and passed the phone to girl.

"H...hello?" Simone asked hesitantly.

"Hey," Quatre's entire visage _changed_. His eyes were sparkling and his shoulders didn't seem slumped. His body language lightened instantly. "How are you? Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Simone noted, starting to curl a strand of her hair around one finger.

Actually, she was blond, too, wasn't she?

Jordan grinned very slightly, looking to Wufei.

"They have the tv on, don't they?" Quatre added after a second, looking back to the camera.

"Yes, they just turned it on."

"I could have used them calling an hour ago," Quatre said dryly.

"You like the sweater?" she asked in an almost small voice, still toying with her hair.

"My butler didn't understand why I wanted it washed last night," Quatre noted, smiling even more as the commentator started muttering about a commercial break.

Simone giggled as the screen changed.

"Aww, he's all gone," Trowa noted happily.

"What?" Quatre asked blankly.

"Mm...call me later," Simone said quickly, then passed the phone back to Trowa.

"Wait..." Quatre tried to protest.

"I'm sorry, my darling," Trowa returned happily in German. "But our princess is fickle."

"Shut up," Quatre retorted, though he sounded amused. "What did you mean?"

"The station went to commercial. You might give the people an interview; they noticed you looking at them and got all hot and bothered."

Quatre laughed wickedly at that. "I've got to go, people are now waiting to meet me...damn it. I'll see you guys in a few days...Jor gave her...have you guys given her my number yet?"

"Jor might have," he started, looking across the room.

Jor shook his head.

"Oh, not yet...he'll remedy that, I'm sure."

"Or you do, if not," Quatre ordered. "Later."

"Just keep your head still and I'll be able to focus my long-lens."

Quatre started laughing and hung up.

Trowa closed the phone, then extended his hand to the girl.

She blinked at him uncertainly.

"Phone," he explained. "Give it to me."

She blinked at him in confusion a moment, then hesitantly offered over her phone.

It took the former pilot a moment to figure out her menu buttons, but then he went to add Quatre's cell.

He'd never hear the end of it if she _didn't_ get that number.

- -

E/N: Just as a note, my computer died. I don't know how long it'll take for me to update again...


	27. 27

— 27 —

**December 26, A.C. 204. L-4. 8am**

Quatre laughed at Radeen's story in disbelief, rocking back where he was sitting as Ava blinked up at him tiredly.

The thing about his siblings was that his parents had _really_ been trying for a boy. Every couple of years, they had created more children in the hope of that ends. Hence, he had twenty-eight living sisters. The four sitting across the couches had turned twenty-seven the previous month.

Quatre couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Margarite's group. They were the first set of four, and they'd been fourteen when he was...born, if that could be what it was called.

Anyway, he'd known the group with him now when he was a child, but as he'd gotten older, he'd been taken more and more along with his father to be taught the trade before they'd been sent off to boarding school.

"You're lying to me," Quatre noted happily. "You _have_ to be lying to me."

"Would I do that?" Radeen asked innocently.

Quatre laughed even more, looking down as he noted the girl was falling asleep again. Of this set of four, Enica was the only one to have any children.

"I swear to you he's trying to woo me," Radeen added happily. "I'm not making any of this up."

"Just exaggerating a touch."

"Well...maybe a touch," Radeen grinned at him.

"As funny as it is to hear Rae lying through her teeth," Rianne muttered, shifting forward slightly to look at him. "I came for proper gossip."

"Proper gossip?" Quatre returned dryly. "You're joking, right?"

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "Tell us about this girl you want our help with."

"I don't actually need your help, dear," Quatre returned, shifting Ava slightly. "I have this lovely ability to tell what she really likes without an effort, I just wanted your advice on taste. I got her a necklace already, but I want to get her something...like this," he shifted one arm to show her the sleeve of his shirt.

"So go to Gimzo and grab the first thing you see," she retorted.

Quatre frowned at her, annoyed by that.

"What?" she protested, looking the shirt over. "That couldn't have cost more than...twenty dollars."

"She's nineteen, and the fact that she thought to get me anything at _all_ more than makes up for the quality," he retorted. "Besides, her family isn't financially backed. She makes her own money, and twenty dollars on a shirt means twenty less for food...come on, I like this color and it's actually comfortable."

"Ooh," Enica noted to Keya. "Protective, isn't he?"

Keya flashed her a grin.

Rianne sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Go pick her up something from Azure Clan."

"I don't know if she even likes that style," he retorted. "Maybe I should just take her to Streak..."

"If you finish that line with the word 'red'," Rianne cut him off, "I'm going to disown you."

"That's where _I_ buy my clothes," he retorted irritably.

"Yes, and I'm sure it's where you got that pretty little cubic on your ear, too," she fiddled with her earring.

Quatre gave her a level look. She was trying to annoy him, and it was working somewhat, but not to any true degree.

"Just find her something elegant from Azure Clan," Keya soothed. "And what was that you were saying about a necklace? If she's so strapped for cash won't she just pawn it?"

He gave _her_ a dirty look, and _her_ words offended him because she _meant_ it.

"What?" she protested. "Don't look at me like that...what did I say?"

"Just because she can't go buy _me_ some shirt from Azure or one of those doesn't mean she can't make her ends meet. I'm seriously rethinking asking _any_ of you for advice," he noted, looking back down to the girl in his lap as he wondered what Chip was up to.

That struck him as actually sad. Sure, the boy called him uncle, but he wasn't actually kin, not by blood...and Quatre missed him more than any of the children that _were_ his blood.

Granted, he _knew_ Chip.

"Next time I come up, I'm bringing Chai," he mused.

"What?" they asked blankly, giving him confused looks.

"We have tea," Enica added. "You can get your butler to order some chai for you if you really want..."

Quatre started laughing weakly, kissing the top of the sleeping girl's head.

"What?" Enica protested. "Why are you laughing at us?"

"Chai Maxwell, Enica," he clarified, meeting her eyes. "Jordan's wife?"

"Jordan is Duo, right?"

"He was," Quatre agreed. "He's not now."

"Why do you want to bring his wife?" Radeen asked blankly. "I thought you liked that Simone girl."

Quatre started laughing again, closing his eyes a moment before looking to the ceiling.

They exchanged nervous looks.

"Are you...okay?" Rianne asked hesitantly, studying him.

"I'm not mad," Quatre retorted, understanding her meaning from her emotions as he gave her a dark look. "You have _no_ idea about my life."

"You play general on earth and don't really do anything?" Radeen offered.

"I'm also the second or third strongest empath on the military pay-roll," he retorted, focusing on her. "I was also on Prozac for a year or something and I'm not now."

"That was for your depression, wasn't it?" Enica asked quietly, studying him.

"That'd be the easiest way to say it, yes," he agreed. "It _was_ because no matter where I went I was assaulted from all sides with what everyone _else_ was feeling."

They all frowned more at him, realizing that he could feel them that same way.

"You know I moved in with Jordan and his wife, don't you?"

"You were living with the other pilots...in that apartment?" Keya offered.

"I haven't lived there for a good year," Quatre informed her. "You _realize_ that Jordan's only been back for a year or so now, right?"

They all exchanged looks.

"Wow," Quatre muttered, looking down to the child again. "We like...need to communicate more."

"Quatre, I honestly didn't think you wanted anything to do with any of us until you wandered off with Coy," Rianne said quietly, studying his eyes. "We don't want to interfere with your life."

"But I like you," he noted giving them all mock-confused looks.

They blinked at him.

He rolled his eyes, then sighed and started to stand. "To make a long story short, last year with the coup attempt we found Jordan and he came back to base with us to clear his friend's name–he disappeared on us when we all eighteen. Anyway," he set Ava in Enica's lap, "Chai came with him, and she's a quieting."

It was fairly evident that they didn't understand what that meant.

"Chai has the power to mute my empathy," he explained pointedly. "When she wants to, she makes it where I'm normal...like any of you, I imagine. I'm inside my own head and can see the visual side of people's moods, but I don't _drown_ in it. She's also a special type of quieting that we've never seen before, because she makes it _all_ go away."

"Like a bad addiction," Keya noted dryly.

"Like a good friend," Quatre retorted, stretching slightly. "Listen, I asked Caitlyn and them to come up. I can't be with too many at once, I think four or five is my limit."

"So you're kicking us out," Enica noted, rolling her eyes as she stood. "You're an ass."

"I'm damn good at it, too," he retorted. "You know how to use a phone and a vid. You _can_ call me, it _is_ allowed."

She gave him a look, then started from the room with the others on her heels.

"I...love you?" he offered, not wanting them to leave and be angry at him.

That made Rianne and Radeen snigger and lose what little irritation they had. Keya smacked her forehead, and she also lost her annoyance.

"Come on," Quatre protested at Enica. "I'm damn tired of being overwhelmed by people."

"Like my husband?"

"I invited you and your families to come sit with me," he returned quietly. "Whether or not you consider your husbands family is not my concern."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation at that, then shook her head at him...and led the group from the room.

Quatre sighed, rubbing at his neck as he dropped back onto the couch.

If that was how they were _all_ going to go, he was in for a damn long day.

- -

**December 26, A.C. 204. Base. 9am**

"Hey," Wufei greeted Calvin and Mikel as they moved into his apartment. "How are you guys?"

"Perplexed," Mikel returned, moving around into the kitchen before looking around. "No Morgan?"

"He hasn't shown up yet," Wufei returned, pouring the batter for the pancakes he was making into the pan. "I managed to sleep in this morning, sorry for my state of...undress..."

The pair rolled their eyes at that since he was standing at the stove in his pajama pants with no shirt.

"You want food?" he added, looking back to them.

"You look different with your hair down," Mikel returned, studying him.

"It's damn annoying to sleep with it up," Wufei agreed. "I seriously have only been up long enough to piss and use mouth-wash."

Calvin laughed happily at that. "How did your Christmas go?"

"It was nice," he returned, thinking the day over. "Maxwell went and got his wife a tree and decorated their living room, so it really _felt_ like Christmas, you know?" he flipped the thing over. "You want food or not?"

"I'll take some," Cal returned, dropping into his seat at the table. "You planning on getting clothes on any time soon?"

"I've thought about it a little," Wufei admitted happily. "We get the lab today."

"Ooh, exciting," Mikel muttered sarcastically, dropping into another seat. "You know we love the tests."

Wufei turned to frown at him.

Mikel waved it away. "I'll take some, too. Should I call Roberts?"

"He's the one who woke me up," Wufei returned, moving to the fridge for some sausage.

"You're a damn lunatic," Trowa informed them all grumpily, moving to slouch into another chair. His eyes weren't entirely open, and he hadn't bothered to put anything on over his boxers. "Why the fuck are you awake _this_ early?"

"We get the lab today," Wufei retorted, looking back to him. "Put the coffee on and stop talking until you've had some."

"You're damn insane," Trowa retorted, then focused blearily on the empaths who were sitting back from him in their seats. "Yes, I'm annoyed. I got woken up."

"The fact that you can't even open your eyes suggests to me that you decided to _let_ us wake you up," Wufei noted pointedly. "Put the coffee on, Trowa. You're not human until you've had half the pot."

Trowa glowered at his back, but did get up from his seat and slouch toward the machine.

"I didn't smoke yesterday," Wufei added pointedly to his friend. "I've gotten it so the craving isn't killer."

"That's good," Trowa returned in a less surly tone. The fact that Wufei was quitting smoking was something he really wanted to support–it was the reason Wufei brought it up at all, but that was beside the point.

"I'm hoping I can go at least most of today without another one," he added happily.

"I think you should have just quit cold turkey," Mikel noted. "And you haven't found any other habit for your hands and mouth."

"Yeah..." Wufei sighed as he considered that point of the process. "I just want it to go away."

"Isn't your friend supposed to be a god?" Calvin asked curiously.

Wufei sniggered, turning back to give him a look.

Calvin just grinned.

It didn't take all that long for the breakfast to be finished, and for all that Trowa bitch, moaned, and complained about being woke up, he hopped in the shower as soon as Wufei was finished. Morgan showed up around then, and Trowa decided to tag along when they all headed for the lab.

That actually explained why he let himself get woken up.

Clinton was standing outside the lab waiting for them when they showed up, looking tired. It took until Wufei was moving from his car for the guy to look up at him and smile slightly. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," Wufei returned, pulling out the card for entry. "You look tired."

"I didn't sleep well," Clinton returned, then blinked at Trowa.

"What?" Trowa asked blankly.

"You're backwards," Clinton returned.

"And inside out," Wufei agreed happily, shoving the door open. "Clinton, this is Trowa Barton."

"Lieutenant _General_ Trowa Barton," Trowa retorted.

"Which is just as important as _my_ lieutenant general," Wufei agreed, waving Clinton's hand away from the salute it was already performing. "Don't show him respect."

Trowa laughed at that, looking to Morgan. "You're seriously writing that crap down?"

"I'm writing down that you're backwards," Morgan retorted, then shoved him into the building.

"Huh," Clinton muttered, looking around. "Something in here feels weird."

"Weird?" Morgan asked, moving up toward him. "What do you mean?"

"Kinda...tingly," Mikel supplied, looking around. "It wasn't like this last time we came in, was it?"

"Not that I remember," Calvin agreed, frowning at him.

Trowa, however, wasn't really following to play lab assistant. He moved around the group and up the hall, looking into the window of one of the rooms.

"We can't go in there, Barton," Wufei noted pointedly. "Stop being nosy."

"He's not nosy, he's anxious," Calvin returned.

"It's here!" Trowa exclaimed happily. He turned to Wufei and pointed into the room. "Ha! It's a heart!"

They all gave him confused looks.

"Uh...a transform unit," he clarified for the empaths. Wufei knew exactly what it was.

"Why are you happy about that?" Wufei demanded in almost a sick tone. "That's for the beam sabers, right?"

Trowa lost some of his excitement at that.

"We destroyed our gundams for the peace of the entire sphere...and you're playing with thermal weaponry?"

"You don't care that I'm the M.S. mechanic," Trowa said. He wasn't entirely sure of that anymore, though. Wufei's reaction was definitely _not_ one he'd expected.

Mikel looked to Morgan. "Trowa is upset that he's disappointed Wufei and Wufei is in a state of disbelief."

"Stop that," Wufei muttered at him irritably.

Mikel grinned at Morgan. "Now he's upset because he doesn't want either of them embarrassed."

"It's not like its projectiles," Trowa added, ignoring the empath. "It's not like...it's defensive."

"If your defensive weapon is strong enough, you take offensive action," Wufei noted. "_You_ can make even a thermal heart offensive."

"That's more in the style of use," Trowa noted, looking away. "You can use your sword offensively, can't you?"

"You mean defensively," Wufei retorted, then sighed and rubbed at his face before shaking his head and looking back to the empaths. "I'm sorry... Come on," he added to Trowa. "We have stuff to do."

Trowa watched them walk away before looking back at the bit of machinery he'd been waiting for for the last month, sighing slightly. He'd been excited to get to play with it...but now he wasn't entirely sure if he even wanted to do it anymore.

He'd have to see how the others reacted. If they were all upset he'd abandon the notion entirely...other than that it'd be simple majority.

Watch, with his luck only one of the others would agree with Wufei and he'd still be left to make the final decision.

The former pilot wished he'd just stayed in bed.

- -

**December 26, A.C. 204. L-4. 10am**

Quatre was vaguely annoyed that Caitlyn's group had also not brought their husbands...or children. Caitlyn had brought Aldo, but other than that Carlene had brought Amarie...and there were six in their set.

Considering that he wasn't feeling so touchy about his family anymore, inviting the groups to sit with him for an hour or so to just chat had been meant so he could meet the brother-in-laws and the children...get to know all of them, really.

Hell, most of his siblings had been married by the time he'd fought in the first war. He'd been _six_ when Kiley'd had Richard, seven when Bailey'd had Brooklyn, and eight when Margarite'd had Devon. He'd completely missed out on the weddings of this group, Emily, Amanda, Kendra, and Madison, because before the wars he'd been tagging along with his father or the man who'd created Sandrock...and then he was _in_ the wars...and the invitation for Madison's wedding had gotten waylaid in the mail or something, because he didn't remember getting it.

Either that, or the fact that Madison was one of the ones who thought he should be disinherited. He'd never actually gotten a final verdict on it.

He had hopes that Radeen or Rianne might humor him when, but if what Rianne had been saying was true, they didn't want to _bother_ him.

And with how he'd acted toward the lot of them over the past few years, he knew it was his own fault.

He sighed, rubbing at his shoulders again.

There was a tap on the door.

"Come in," he called, looking toward it.

"Hello, little brother," Emily greeted him pleasantly. "I'm not early am I?"

"Not at all," he returned, rising to smile at her son, who was studying his uncle with sparkling eyes.

"I was going to bring wine," her husband noted with a bright smile as he followed, "but she told me not to be stupid. Is it too early in the morning for that, or do you have the same bottles in here?"

Quatre genuinely smiled at that, gesturing them in.

"Unfortunately, I picked up a stray," Emily added in a mock dry tone as Amanda followed her through the door.

"I told her she was being stupid, but she doesn't believe me," Amanda noted, smiling at Quatre as she shoved her daughter forward.

It was the little girl who'd hugged him.

"Tell him hello, Autumn," Amanda prompted.

"Hello, uncle," the girl said quietly, smiling shyly up at him.

"Hello, baby-girl," he returned, hugging her. This, evidently, meant that Emily's son needed a hug. "Hello, buddy," he added to the boy.

"Braxton, why don't you and your cousin go ruin his computer," Emily suggested, gesturing toward the other rooms of the suite.

"All right, Mom," the kid returned, then stopped and looked to Quatre. "Is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Quatre reassured him. "Just don't get glass in Autumn's hair."

The boy flashed him a grin at that, then turned and darted out of sight with his cousin.

"I found another one, honey," another man noted to Amanda as he moved into the room with a hand on both Kendra and Madison's wrists. "Do you suppose we should throw them back out or are they big enough?"

"Don't mind him," Kendra said, breaking from the man's grip. There was more murmuring behind her as three other children moved into the room, then two more men. "This is my husband, Braunen...Braunen, you know my brother."

"Everyone knows your brother," the man agreed, then waved at him. "Hi, Mr. Winner."

"I think that might be offensive," Quatre retorted.

"If our wives are just _introducing_ us to you," the second man noted, ushering the children in, "I don't think you can really _claim_ that one."

There are just so _many_... Quatre decided not to comment on that and grinned at the man.

"I hope you really meant our families," Emily noted as she hugged the smaller girl from the new arrivals. "Your cousins are in on the computer," she added to the three children there.

"Wait a second," Quatre protested. "I need _names_."

"You'll never remember them all," Emily noted, waving him off. "We just told ours to call you Uncle Quatre and figured you'd be smart enough to show them affection. What's this I hear about a little girlfriend, now? Caitlyn was all a twitter about your cheap sweater."

"I _like_ it," Quatre protested at them in disbelief.

They _all_ grinned at that.

He coughed slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm not here to talk about me..."

"Well, I am," Kendra noted, moving to pour the tea on the sideboard into a cup before tsking disapprovingly.

"What?" Quatre asked warily.

"You let it get cold," she chided, moving to pull the bell-pull.

"Oh, don't!" he protested...as the gong sounded more or less throughout the house. "I use...my...phone," he added, showing it to her.

She grinned wickedly at him. "I don't get to stay in the master suites ever, so if I want to call the butler by bell-pull, I'll call the butler by bell-pull. Come on, brother, you used to annoy the hell out of me, don't start that again."

Quatre gave her a look.

"Yes?" the butler asked, looking around the room in confusion before noting it was Kendra by the pull and not Quatre.

"He's trying to pretend these are special meetings for just a few of us at a time," she returned as the men smirked and exchanged looks. "He can't really pull it off if his tea goes cold...I'll make sure to call you when we leave so you can restock."

The butler grinned at her, taking the pot.

"So let's go back to the other thing that's been bugging me," Emily noted, looking back to her brother as the various males took seats on the couches. "Coy and Brooklyn have been muttering that you said something about washing blood off your hands...were you bickering with Ainslie again?"

"Usually," he noted, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Do you suppose you'll ever grow up?"

"Unfortunately," he said dryly, "I have this tendency to get annoyed when any of my sisters treat me like a child. At that point, I generally..."

"Throw a fit," Madison agreed. "How do you _even_ command troops if you can't keep your temper under control for ten minutes?"

Quatre made an actual effort to stop himself from sniping at her, then shrugged and looked away. "My friends treat me like an adult."

"Act like one, and we would, too," Braunen noted pointedly. "We aren't here to bitch at you," he reminded the ladies. "We're here to pay a social call for forty-five minutes and then find something else to do. Radeen noted that you said they could call. Is that a family-wide edict, or just for your favorites?"

Quatre flashed him an amused and annoyed look.

"I just ask, because if we don't clear it up, Antoni there," he pointed at the man who'd commented about wine, "will get smashed and call you."

"You'll tell me to," the man retorted. "It won't be my fault it's four in the morning," he added happily to Quatre. "And if we show _up_ all drunk and stuff, it's his fault," he pointed at one of the other men.

"No matter if we're drinking with them or not," Amanda added happily, "it's never _our_ fault. This is my husband, David. He likes to try to get us killed...and that's Mitchell. He does his damnedest to stay sober enough to thwart David. You think you'll remember them, little brother? Or will we be drunkenly explaining to you over the vid who we all are?"

Quatre shrugged noncommittally. "I'll recognize you four, anyway...and assume that any males with you are your husbands...and not boyfriends."

They all grinned at him for that one.

"I think we'll get along just fine," David noted to Amanda. "He seems real now, not some teenage rebel. I might even drink with him some time."

"Not tonight, though," Quatre noted. "I want to meet with as many of you as I can today so Ainslie doesn't get on me about visiting my family."

"You can't let Ainslie direct your actions," Emily noted pointedly to him. "You do that and she'll win."

Quatre gave her a look.

She shrugged noncommittally and looked to her husband. "So tonight around ten we'll all come up here and try to make enough noise to bother the whole house. Who else will come, you think?"

"I can't do big groups," Quatre cut her off quickly. "This is almost too much."

"Oh fine," she muttered petulantly to him. "You owe us a night of drunken stupidity, though."

"If Wufei can figure it out," he agreed, rubbing at his face.

"Chang?" Mitchell asked curiously. "He's the one doing that study, right? He's not using you like a guinea pig, is he?"

Quatre met his eyes a moment in amusement, then shook his head. "Wufei _started_ that study because of me. He got the weaker empaths from the building to do the testing for him."

"That's a true friend," Antoni noted happily to Braunen. "Finds the rats to test on before even going _near_ the source."

"Let's change the subject," Quatre suggested mock-happily. "Tell me about you...your kids...where you live. I want to make sure my phone book is up to date, too. If you do that," he cautioned Emily as she opened her mouth, "I'll tell you _all_ about Simone."

For some reason, they were perfectly willing to start talking about themselves.


	28. 28

— 28 —

**December 28, A.C. 204. Base. 10am**

"This is in damn good shape," Chance muttered, moving around the transform unit with interest. "Where did they get it?"

"Do you mind?" Wufei asked dryly.

"No, look," Chance protested, starting to lower his hand toward it. "The magnetic field is even in close..."

The E.K.G. machine made a funny beeping noise and Wufei focused back on what he was doing.

"Why is this in _here_ of all places?" Chance added, looking back to Calvin, who was laying back with his eyes closed.

"I don't know," Wufei replied irritably. "Moving it would take a good hour and tomorrow we have to go back to nights. I don't want to mess with it...but we might have to...this isn't normal," he pointed at something on the screen.

"Crap!" Chance muttered as his wedding band was sucked against the magnet of the heart.

Calvin sat up sharply, looking around in disbelief. "What the hell is that?"

"Chance!" Wufei protested in annoyance as the reading on the machine changed dramatically.

Chance started laughing, yanking at his arm. "I'm...I'm stuck...oh my god..._Trowa_!"

Wufei groaned to himself and moved from the machine, grabbing Chance's wrist and pulling it away...or trying to. "Holy crap...what is that _made_ out of..."

Chance started laughing even harder, shaking his head.

"Wufei, what _is_ that?" Calvin asked, looking a little wild-eyed.

"What?" Wufei focused back on him, then back to the machine. He stopped, staring at that before looking back to the empath.

He looked a damn lot like Quatre had when Chai had first started doing her thing without warning him.

Morgan moved into the room with Mikel on his heels. As Mikel moved through the door he stopped, his own eyes going wide.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked blankly.

"It's gone," Calvin said in a slightly panicked tone, starting to scramble from his hook-ups.

"I'm so stuck..." Chance muttered, still trying to pry his ring from the magnet.

He was _not_ leaving that ring behind.

Trowa moved into the room, blinking at Chance as Morgan and Wufei exchanged disbelieving looks.

"Trowa...help?" Chance asked, resting against the heart since he'd used up most of his energy.

"How can you be _that_ stuck?" Trowa demanded, moving forward to slide the ring up the magnet, then leaned in to study the place where the two met.

"Its gundanium," Chance admitted, starting to laugh weakly again. "That's how I'm so damn stuck."

"Your wedding band is made of gundanium?" Trowa asked him almost in disbelief.

Chance started laughing harder, pulling helplessly at the ring.

"You are _so_ damn special," he noted...and climbed up onto the heart to get a good grip on Chance's wrist. "Ready?"

Chance nodded.

"Pull!"

The pair put a serious effort into it, and after a moment they came free of the magnet...which sent Trowa flying backwards and caused the machine to start beeping erratically. Chance also flew backwards, but that was more because Trowa had shoved him as he fell than anything.

It also calmed Mikel and Calvin.

Morgan was staring with his mouth agape at the machine's read-out...and Wufei had a hand to his forehead.

"What?" Trowa asked, realizing that everything had stopped.

"It's...normal again," Mikel whispered in response, looking around to Chance.

"What do you mean?" Chance asked, studying his wedding band.

"When I came in...it all stopped."

Chance blinked up at him.

"Calvin?" Wufei asked quietly.

"Everything was normal, you were annoyed with him," he gestured at Chance, "then he was consternated...and then it was gone..." he looked back to Chance as well. "Just...gone."

"What was gone?" Trowa asked, wanting to hear it.

"I...couldn't feel anyone else," Calvin said quietly, looking back to Trowa. "And you were all reacting, I could _see_ you all reacting...but I didn't feel any of it."

"Holy shit," Morgan whispered, looking back to Chance as well.

Chance laughed nervously, cupping his hand around his ring. "Not my ring."

"But we need to try..." Wufei started.

Trowa raised a hand, stopping Wufei from speaking. "There are parts in the mecha made of gundanium."

Wufei blinked at him.

"It's his wedding-band," Trowa reminded Wufei pointedly. "Give me an hour and I can have you a few scraps..."

"He's _here_ though," Wufei protested, gesturing at Chance.

"It's his _wedding_ band," Trowa repeated pointedly. "Besides, we were damn lucky to get the thing off it at _all_."

Wufei looked back to Morgan, his eyes too bright.

"I'll get them," Morgan agreed...and disappeared from the room. It took him seconds to reach the entrance.

"Get...what?" Trowa asked blankly.

"Go!" Wufei half shouted, shoving at him. "_Go!_"

"Great," Trowa noted over his shoulder to Chance. "Now he's lost his mind."

- -

**December 29, A.C. 204. Base. 3pm**

The base was buzzing and there was a queue of media vans parked outside the entrance where Jordan could see the local reporter standing and talking to camera.

"I can't believe we really did it," Wufei whispered to Morgan as they leaned against the guard-hut.

"Who _didn't_ think you'd do it?" Chance asked happily.

In the grand scheme of things, as far as Chance could figure, Wufei and Morgan deserved that glory. It might have been his own stupid mistake, but Chance wouldn't have been in the building to get stuck to the giant magnet if he hadn't been intending to help Wufei out with the research part of it all.

Personally, he felt that backing up the logic even further meant that it was Trowa's doing, but that didn't really count either.

"All of that research," Wufei added, looking to the sky, "and it was just a stupid accident...but we _did_ it..." he looked from the sky to Morgan. "I can't wait for Quatre to get home."

"You ready to be heroes?" Jordan asked curiously, still watching the reporter, then grinning slightly as the cameraman actually spotted him and focused on him. The reporter turned to look as well, and then stood very still, expectantly still.

"I'll take the glory if you want me to," Chance noted happily.

"No, it's fine," Wufei noted, composing himself.

Evidently he wasn't in the state to note the joke.

"Maybe next time," Morgan noted, looking to Chance.

"How do I look?" Wufei muttered, straightening his jacket.

"A little mad," Trowa returned happily.

Wufei gave him a look, then looked to Jordan.

"You look fine," Jordan reassured him, then nodded slightly at Chance and Trowa.

"Yeah," Chance agreed quietly.

The group of them followed Wufei when he started to move, and the gathered reporters and people standing in the grass–they'd been informed that they'd be arrested if they blocked the road-way–started cheering.

Wufei smiled as he moved beyond the gate, stopping a ways away from the local reporter and looking everyone over...and they all pounced.

Jordan, Chance, and Trowa moved out to keep them a steady distance away, holding up their hands and standing straight like soldiers should.

"Good afternoon," Wufei said loudly. His voice definitely carried across the entire area. "I apologize for making you all wait, but I'm sure you can understand that we've been busy."

Questions started one after the other, turning into an excited cacophony.

Wufei raised his hand to quiet them, looking from camera to camera for a long moment before smiling again and readying himself. "As you all may have heard," he noted loudly, "for the last several months, Morgan Roberts and myself have been working on a method to interrupt the ability of the empaths. Our research has covered many angles, and..."

- -

**December 29, A.C. 204. L-4. 3:05pm**

Quatre stood in front of the huge screen of the wall-tv in the ballroom, absolutely riveted to his spot as the camera focused on Wufei. They had Wufei's full rank listed with his name, and underneath that a caption.

_Successful research to further help the empath phenomenon found on the Inado California Earth Sphere Base._

The scrolling words across the bottom of the screen–which stood to Quatre's knees–was proclaiming that two researchers claimed to have found a way to interrupt the empath ability.

Quatre couldn't move.

"Quatre," Karen called irritably from behind somewhere. "What?"

"You're so stupid," Kendra called from across the room. "Do you not _recognize_ that man?"

There was a murmur, but Quatre's eyes and mind were focused on Wufei's mouth.

"...and through a series of tests, we seem to have successfully interrupted the power of one low powered empath, one moderately powered empath, and the highest level empath on this base."

Paris.

Quatre's heart beat faster.

"I have contacted multiple research agencies to independently verify our findings, and as soon as three or more have successfully done so, the method will be passed into the health research phase..." he stopped and wiped his eyes, smiling largely at the camera before turning away.

"The health research," Morgan spoke up, though he had to make more an effort to be heard, "should take approximately six months, though we will be studying the long-term effects."

"And just think," Quatre muttered quietly as Morgan went on. "I never used to be able to _stand_ him."

"What?" Margrite asked blankly, moving up beside him.

"He hated me for my money and I hated him because I could," Quatre returned as Jordan finished reassuring Wufei. He turned to look at his sister. "I need to go home."

She blinked at him. "You..._are_ home," she noted, gesturing to the throng behind him.

Quatre looked to his sisters, brothers-in-laws, nieces, and nephews, then looked back to the screen. It had moved on from their interview and the news reporter was talking excitedly about what that meant for empaths throughout the world and the colonies.

"No," Quatre said finally, using the remote to start the movie. "I need to go back to Inado."

"You heard him," she protested. "He said..."

"Margrite," Quatre cut her off gently, "Wufei _started_ that research to help _me_."

She settled back.

"He was one of the ones in the house," Quatre added, running a hand through his hair as the movie stopped at the play-screen. "Everyone?"

They all fell quiet, looking to him quietly.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking them all over. "I really have enjoyed this visit, but...I'm afraid I need to go home now."

Ainslie stood, her expression highly offended.

"I don't know how many of you followed that," he added, gesturing back at the screen, "but that Asian man it was showing is one of my best friends...I _know_ some of you know that," he noted pointedly as Enica started to protest, "but not all of you understand what that story just said. If what that story said was true...fully detailed and true...then...it's a _monumental_ event. I need to go back to Inado...I need to go back to earth."

"You can't just _leave_!" Ainslie protested, her voice rising higher. "This was supposed to be our _holiday_!"

"And every time we're in the same _damn_ room together we ruin it for _everyone_!" Quatre shot back at her. "I'm not _good_ enough for you and you just _piss_ me off."

"Quatre," Margrite reprimanded him. "There are children present."

"Sorry," he apologized, more to her than anyone else, hugging her briefly and passing her the remote as he started to walk away.

"If you walk out that door," Ainslie started, her voice rising.

"You'll _what_ Ainslie?" Quatre demanded, stopping to look at her. "You'll disinherit me? Didn't you already _try_ that?"

She stood there, glaring at him.

"News flash, sister mine," he said fiercely, "the fact is that pacifism won't _work_ until order _stands_. Until then, until we can..."

"It goes against _everything_ father stood for!" she shouted back at him. "_Everything_ he did...and _he_ didn't even approve of your nonsense!"

Quatre flinched inwardly at the words, remembering how sad his father had sounded so many times. "If you don't _like_ it," he shouted back at her, turning that pain into volume, "then have me killed and make _another_ son!"

Ainslie stared at him in disbelief.

"I'm sure they still have Mom's eggs on ice and Dad's sperm in cubes...go make another round of babies, _add_ to the family legacy! Until I'm laid out in a puddle of blood, _I_ am the family patriarch. Until I'm burned to ashes, there's _nothing_ you can do! I'm _tired_ of coming to visit my family and spending the time _arguing_ with _**you**_! You're no better than the _rest_ of us! You hold no _sway_! Just _stop_ hounding me and maybe some time I'll _live_ up to your expectations!"

She stared at him in disbelief.

He smirked slightly at her, realizing vaguely these were the things that made him seem mean. "I'll even authorize the payment for the creation," he hissed.

"Stop, now," Margarite ordered in a pained tone of voice. "Just _stop_."

Quatre settled back where he stood, looking to her, then looked to the ceiling a moment and swallowed. After he'd composed himself again, he smiled at the children who were all staring at him. "I enjoyed spending time with all of you," he noted. "Hopefully we can do it again soon...I hope my presents were all right...and I do love you all. I'm sorry if I seem mean, I mean nothing against any of you."

Richard and Devon exchanged looks as Coy looked away.

"You should all have my cell number or my vid number," he added, looking back to his sisters. "Call me some time. Ainslie and my shit made these visits unpleasant for me, but it's not like I don't want anything to do with you all...or most of you. Some of you who still try to preach pacifism to me make me sad, but...if we get along when we see each other, feel free to _call_ me...I need to go home, though." He stood uncertainly for a moment, then turned on his heel and started for the door again.

"Uncle Quatre!"

Quatre turned back to Autumn, who was sprinting across the room to him...he kneeled down to accept her hug...and suddenly he was surrounded by the younger children, who were all running to hug him. He smiled reassuringly at them as they cried–they were all very upset that he was leaving, but none of them were trying to make him stay.

That meant more to him than if Ainslie had up and apologized for her stupidity. The fact that he'd managed to gain the affection of the little children made him feel definitely more at ease with his family standing.

"Okay, okay, little ones..." Avalon muttered in a sweet voice–she was the youngest of Margarite's group. "Come along little ones," she encouraged. "Uncle Quatre needs to go...we'll see him again soon, huh?"

They started pulling away with tearful eyes.

"Let's watch the movie, huh, babies?" Avalon encouraged, starting to shoo them back toward the seating area. "We got this movie early and special and no one else gets to see it yet but us..."

Quatre smiled as Autumn gave him a very sad look, then turned and started after the rest of the children...but, of course, many of his sisters and brother-in-laws were moving to hug him and wish him well.

Evidently, his taking time to talk to them all singly had worked after all.

He smiled slightly at Margrite, who hadn't left her spot in front of the screen, then turned and started for the hall.

"Uncle Quatre!"

He turned to see Richard and Devon coming out the door. After a moment, Hadley followed...and Coy, Ember...Brooklyn, and finally Colton. Coy and Ember were sixteen, and Quatre was pretty sure the rest were older.

"What does that mean?" Richard asked, encouraging the group to move. "Does that mean that Coy will be okay?"

"They have to do the research for it," Quatre agreed, starting up the stairs. "That means testing it on all sorts of people. It depends on what he found to interrupt it."

"You mean fix it?" Ember asked curiously.

"It's not exactly something to be _fixed_, honey," he said seriously, studying her eyes. "It won't ever go away...but next time I come here, I'll be in this group and only have your body language to go off of."

She gave him a confused look.

"You know what empaths are, stupid," Brooklyn muttered to her. "They _feel_ emotions."

"Don't call names," Quatre reprimanded him.

"You all but called _my_ mom a bitch," Colton retorted.

"That's because your mom _is_ a bitch," Quatre countered...in Italian, sure, but he said it.

"Uncle," Richard protested, giving him a partially scandalized look.

"You don't speak Italian," Quatre retorted happily.

Richard flashed him a grin and shook his head.

"What did he say?" Colton demanded.

"He's being stupid," Richard returned, holding his uncle's eyes the entire time. "Sort of like his comments about the family legacy."

"Hey, we all have our bitter moments," Quatre retorted, moving into his suite. "If you lot are all going to follow me around in here, make yourselves useful and get my personal stuff."

"Why do you have to just go like this, though?" Hadley asked. They'd all stopped to look the main room over.

"Because I want this to go away," Quatre admitted quietly. "It's hard...you all saw me Christmas morning. I couldn't even stay in that room when it was supposed to be a happy family time."

They all nodded sadly at that.

"So if this works," he added, "it won't be so hard for me to come here."

"Let's get his stuff," Richard suggested to the rest, gesturing him toward his room. "Get your clothes...and you saying this to us is a promise."

"Yes, teens are annoying like that," Quatre teased.

Richard flashed him a grin, then followed Hadley toward the computer area.

Quatre rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if telling them all to call him sometime hadn't been a mistake.

It didn't matter now, anyway, so there was no reason to worry.

- -

**December 29, A.C. 204. Base. 9pm**

The amount of cars lined along the street, along with the lights in the house, suggested what Quatre had already assumed.

They were partying.

He grinned, readying himself to enter, then shoved the door opened.

Everything stopped as they all turned to look at him.

"Damn, took you long enough!" Trowa informed him happily, starting to laugh.

The house seemed to have all the members of all the teams...

Wufei stood somewhat unsteadily, turning to Quatre expectantly. "I did it," he said, his words slightly slurred. "I...I did it."

Quatre smiled at him, moving forward to hug him. After his friend was sober again he'd realize that Quatre wasn't supposed to be home for another few days.

"I was on tv, huh?" Wufei asked, blinking somewhat. He smiled at Quatre with that true sort of smile that made his eyes glow. "I'm a little drunk."

"I noticed, actually," Quatre returned in amusement.

"You're not nearly drunk enough," Jordan announced happily, moving from the kitchen with a bottle of amber. "Let's remedy that, huh, blondie?"

Quatre caught the bottle and grinned at him, snapping it open before moving to throw his bedroom door open...and start laughing hard.

"Quatre!" Paris was startled as he jumped up from the bed...where he had the girl Doe from Chance's team shirt-less. "What are you doing back?"

"I'm getting drunk," Quatre returned as he noted his friend had on a very odd necklace...or at least, the necklace had a magnet stuck to it.

"Paris!" Chance called complainingly. "You told us you were going to _stop_ that!"

Paris started laughing himself as the woman pulled her shirt back on. "I _did_ stop!"

"What the hell?" Jordan asked, gesturing around the room, though his eyes were sparkling, too.

"She...she did it," Paris retorted, then started laughing again. It was his wicked laugh, which meant he was feeling damn good.

"You are not having a hook up in _my_ room," Quatre informed his friend, tossing his duffel on the floor. "Out...you can stay," he added to Doe.

She laughed wickedly, but slid off the bed anyway.

"Aww...come on..." Quatre protested, feeling a strange wave of something pass over him when Paris neared him. He stopped the guy by the arm, focusing on the sensation.

"Yeah," Paris whispered, leaning in to hug him. "Yeah...it's gone."

"We did it, huh rich boy?" Morgan muttered, moving from the kitchen to study Quatre. "Reason to party, huh?"

"It'd be happier for me if I...had a little bit of proof."

Morgan laughed at that, starting to pat down his pockets.

"I have another necklace," Jordan declared...and disappeared.

"What?" Quatre asked, blinking around the room.

Wufei laughed a bit, moving around to grab the magnet on Paris' necklace. "Gundanium."

Quatre stared at that, then looked back to the Chinese man.

Wufei grinned even more, studying Quatre's face. He wanted something, but he was too inebriated for it to communicate clearly through his emotions, so Quatre just looked back at him. That seemed to suffice well enough, because he wasn't getting upset.

"Here," Jordan muttered, draping a necklace around Quatre's throat. "Someone else do the honors!"

Morgan offered a small magnet to Wufei, who took it from him and studied it before meeting Quatre's eyes...and applying it to the metal.

. . . and everything disappeared. The feelings of everyone else in the room vanished as they all watched him with smiles on their faces, waiting–probably for his freak-out, actually, but he had Chai's influence enough that the muting of everyone else wasn't scary.

"So simple," Wufei muttered, running his fingers over the back of the magnet, dried glue. "So simple...but so complicated..."

Quatre caught his hand, then grinned at him and kissed his palm.

Wufei's eyes flashed to that simple happiness again, and he grabbed the necklace to pull Quatre from the bedroom. "Simone? Where you at, girl?"

Quatre focused on him sharply.

"What?" she asked, moving from the kitchen, then stopping as she saw Quatre.

"Dance with this man," Wufei ordered, using the necklace to fling the blond...at the other blond.

"Hi, Quatre," she greeted him with a shy smile.

"Hi, Simone," Quatre returned, studying her eyes before looking up and around at everyone, who was watching him. "What? Okay...I'll drink! If I drink this will you all stop watching me?"

Wufei patted Quatre's back once, firmly, then moved after Doe.

Chance shook his head, moving up beside Quatre to pat his back as well. "Excuse me, I have to go warn a certain Chinese man that a certain pretty female is not to be used as a toy...welcome home, huh?"

Home...

Quatre flashed him a grin, then turned to tug Simone with him toward the area where Riley and Danielle were dancing with Raul and Trowa.

For all that this visit with his family hadn't been a never-ending nightmare, it was _damn_ good to be home.


	29. 29

— 29 —

**February 2, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 3pm**

"You're serious?" Jordan muttered into his cell phone. "You're not just fucking with me?"

"No," Jon muttered seriously. "I have them all sitting in here. That girlie is eyeballing me."

"What are you doing?" Jordan asked in amusement.

"I just called to tell you what was happening...the boys are sleeping."

"What are they doing? What have they said?"

"The brunette said the words to me," Jon returned. "Why do you sound so shocked about this? I thought this was what they were supposed to do."

"In a couple more days," Jordan agreed dryly, shaking his head. "Damn...that's crazy."

"You want me to let them sleep?"

"Yeah, for another hour. I'm wrapping up here. I want to be at the base before you bring them in."

"All right," Jon returned. "I'll head in at four, should get there before five."

"Okay, thanks, Jon."

"No problem, I like this game. You're nice to me when we're playing this game."

"Come on," Jor protested. "I apologized for that already...you can't really hold me accountable for when I'm tired."

Jon laughed a bit at that. "Later, Jor."

"Later," Jordan agreed, closing his phone.

"What, now?" Danielle asked from where she was sitting in the couch.

"They're at the bar," Jordan returned, meeting her eyes.

"Already?" she demanded in disbelief. "Did you go easy on them?"

He gave her a look.

"What's up?" Riley asked, moving into the room with papers in her hand.

"They're at the bar already," Jordan returned.

Riley blinked at him.

"Just as a note," Danielle muttered, grinning slightly at him, "you look really impressive when you stroll out of the guard hut with that smirk...it's the thing I remember most about our coming in...when you stopped on the other side of the gate to look us over."

Jordan blinked at that.

"I always remember you standing with your hands on the rail," Riley noted, passing him some paper. "Sign that before you go."

"What is it?"

"Getting a team to go look at the pipes of a complex over there," she gestured vaguely.

"You could so screw me over," Jordan muttered as he signed his name at the bottom of the page.

"I won't...any time soon," the female reassured him. "But considering that I could be helping Mouthy in China or Raul in Russia right now, I don't know how long that'll last."

"Good girl," he replied, moving past her.

"You can't put me off forever," she snapped after him as he started toward Chance's office.

He grinned, turning his head to meet her eye briefly. "What's one more day?"

She gave him a dirty look, but he pushed into the office.

Quatre blinked up at him from a chair as Chance also gave him an interested look.

"Sorry, putting the girl off," he explained his lack of warning. "My three are with Jon right now, so I'm heading back to base. My shit's covered...don't be out too late, huh?"

They both gave him looks.

He flashed them grins and moved back into the hall, heading for the entrance of the building.

Not much had really been happening since New Year's. He'd sent Raul to Russia, but Xane had gone back to China and Judas had gone back to Germany. Actually, though, he'd hooked up with Bauer and taken his group of friends along for the ride. They were moving around between Germany, Switzerland...all over, anyway, and Judas had actually started sending back information that he was gathering.

Xane, on the other hand, seemed to be stuck in a group of playboys. There was no question that the group was part of the syndicate, but they didn't want to trouble their toy with the details.

He was getting annoyed.

Raul's progress was being stunted by the fact that he didn't know Russian when he'd first gone in. For some reason, Danielle's success in Italy had put the group on its guard...for foreigners.

Evidently, the fact that Danielle had been acting Italian didn't mean anything. The part that mattered was that when they were in Manoi, they didn't speak Vietnamese.

Jordan wanted to send Xane on in Russia, but he wasn't sure if he could pull it off. He wanted the second hit of the country to happen soon, but Xane was mired down where he was...which led him back to the crap happening between Tanzania and Mozambique. They were mired down at who was causing the issue, both claiming it was the other country, so that country should step up their patrols and such things.

It all came down to the fact that the Tanzanian government didn't want the I.E.C. officers on their land or across their borders. They were a little too un-trusting to be trusted, and the situation was spiraling down from there.

But they did know the smuggling ring had started in Chile for a certainty. It turned out to be that a former military man, someone who was supposed to be disposing of the mecha and weaponry, had...well, disposed of it, but not in the way that was approved by any government.

That man, of course, was the suspected leader, but he'd disappeared along with the weaponry.

Jordan shook his head as he pulled into the drive for the base, focusing back on his three new recruits.

He'd expected the game to take them a few days longer to play out, but the three together could probably outwit the devil himself.

"Hey, Maxwell," Duty greeted him happily, giving him an interested look. "Long time no see...what do you need now?"

"A place to sit while my team comes in," Jordan returned happily, dropping into the free chair. "How you been livin'?"

"Like a king, of course," Duty replied, grinning openly at him. "Is there any other way?"

Jor smirked in return, considering that a moment before grinning at the man. "Like a god, huh?"

- -

**February 3, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 8am**

"Good morning," Chaoxiang muttered, smiling slightly at Xane as he started to stretch. "It's so nice waking up with you here..."

_It's a good thing I didn't leave, then._ Xane smiled slightly in response, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

Chao's cell started ringing and his happy expression evaporated. He grabbed the thing and his eyes showed concern.

Xane didn't open his mouth.

"Hello?" Chao muttered, running a hand through his blond hair–naturally blond hair.

"It's fucked," Wei said in annoyance. "It's completely fucked, Chao. You need to get down here..._now_. He's refusing to talk to us."

"I have Chris," Chao protested.

"What? Again? You're a bastard...leave him there and get _here_."

"Chao, I have to get to my apartment," Xane said quickly, hopping up as if it had just occurred to him. Chao didn't realize the volume of his phone was loud enough to be heard.

"What? Why?" Chao asked blankly.

"What?" Wei demanded in annoyance.

"I'm coming," Chao retorted, closing his phone and giving Xane a confused look.

"I have that interview today," Xane said quickly, scrambling around for his clothes. "I have to go renew my visa or I have to leave..."

Chao's expression became even _more_ alarmed at that.

That probably wasn't a good thing.

"I have to shower! I can't wear _this_," he added, looking to his outfit and meeting the man's eyes with very wide ones.

"Shit, I have to go to cross the river...and I have to go _now_," Chao noted, moving around to gather up his own clothing. "I don't know how long this will take."

Xane stared at him with wide eyes, noting him glance back at him a moment, then start thinking hard, the sheath for his one-inch pinky-nail pressed at his lips.

It was probably bad that Xane had that much of an in with the man. He didn't mind Chao, really, but he wasn't as attached to him as the guy was to _him_. Chao was usually disappointed if he found his way with one of the others in the group, and he usually had some comment about being happy to wake up with him.

He'd probably do nearly anything for Xane, and that suggested a dangerous level of attachment.

"Let's go," Chao decided, grabbing his phone and moving into the bathroom to rinse off his face. "I'll do this, then run you home...it shouldn't take long. What time is that appointment?"

"Nine," Xane returned easily, moving to the sink himself when the guy moved to rinse his mouth out with mouthwash.

Chao wrapped his arms around Xane's waist until the spy straightened, then kissed his ear with an affectionate nuzzle...and turned back into the room to gather shoes and socks.

Xane considered his own reflection in the mirror as he rinsed his own mouth out.

He'd probably fucked up in allowing that affection to develop. He'd only intended to be a plaything, an interesting toy. Pillow talk could reveal all sorts of lovely secrets, but unfortunately, it didn't seem like Chao'd ever had anyone who gave a damn about what had happened in his day, or who was curious to know what else he was planning to do.

"Chris?" Chao asked, moving to the bathroom door.

Xane leaned forward and spit into the sink, rinsing his mouth out to smile at the guy and wipe his mouth with the towel. "Sorry."

"Come on," Chao suggested, and headed for the door.

Dangerous relationship or no, Xane was hoping _something_ would come of this outing.

He followed the guy from his very nice apartment into his very nice car. Chao was quiet for a long time after they'd started driving, and Xane started to wonder what to say...

"You seem tired," the guy suggested after a while.

"We were up late," Xane reminded him, smiling slightly at him. "I know you remember that."

"But other than that...I mean, you were tired when you first came over."

"I haven't gotten much sleep lately," the spy noted, considering the previous few nights. This seemed a damn lot like any number of conversations he'd had with James.

"People in your complex noisy?" Chao asked in concern as he _sped_ along the road-ways.

"No...but..." Xane trailed off. "I haven't slept in my apartment in the last four or five days."

The stop, which was required because a red stoplight, was _much_ more abrupt than Chao's normal driving. He didn't say anything as he digested that information, then he glanced sidelong at his passenger. "Where've you been sleeping?"

Xane _really_ didn't want to say that, but Chao'd never let on anything about a serious relationship, and he _had_ any number of males and females who died to follow him home.

"I was at Junjie's the night before last...and then Alvaro."

"And Bryn? Is that why Wei called me a bastard?" he looked to Xane again, his expression in that expressionless state that meant he wasn't happy but he knew he didn't have the right to complain.

"No," Xane looked out his window. "Well, I haven't spent much time with Wei in a week or better...and Bryn doesn't pursue me much."

"So...it's been three nights since you were home?" the guy's tone had an edge.

"I think it's five," Xane noted.

"So what? I'm just a last resort?" the guy snapped, looking back to him.

"What?" Xane protested. "No...what are you talking about?"

"Going back and forth between Alvaro and Junjie for a few nights and then come to me and have to go home?"

"No," Xane noted, frowning more at him. "I was just with Alvaro a couple times."

That made _that_ silence fall as Chao focused back on the road.

"Chao?" Xane asked after a few minutes of that.

"What?" the guy snapped.

"Are you picking me up after the appointment?"

The guy lost a bit of his irritation, glancing back to Xane before shrugging almost indifferently and focusing back on the road.

Xane looked back out the window, keeping his posture slightly disappointed. He knew that the rest of the drive and their meeting with the others would probably decide the man on pursuing the relationship or giving it up as a lost cause. Xane didn't really care for the idea of starting a relationship with the guy, but he'd realized fairly early on that this was the only way to get anything.

Complete betrayal.

Actually, if Xane wasn't careful he could end up getting Chao killed. With his wavy blond hair and the newly revived trend of long pinky-nails showing lives of leisure, Chao's business ventures were a lot more on the black side. He and the others were drug dealers and soothsayers. They lived a life of idle luxury and made thousands trading in illicit drugs. They could talk themselves out of any trouble with the devil's own charm, and if you fucked one of them over, they would _all_ hunt you down and make sure you paid.

It wasn't exactly the best group to get mired down in, but it had been the only opening Xane could find for the China connection.

Chao had the protective sheath for his pinky-nail at his mouth again as they pulled onto the bridge. It was his one slip. Every time he got nervous and was thinking, that was what he did.

Xane slumped slightly lower in his seat.

"What...what time?" Chao asked, glancing sidelong at him with the pursed lips that showed he wasn't sure how the conversation would play out.

"I should be done by three," Xane noted, looking back to him. "I...I can call?"

"At three?" Chao muttered, considering that more as they moved off the far end of the bridge. "I'll be busy at three."

"With what?"

Chao shrugged, not looking at him. "Just some shit I have to do..."

"Will you be over here?" Xane asked as they turned into a crowded parking lot.

Chao made a noncommittal noise, pulling into a parking spot. "Stay with me and don't say anything," he ordered as he slid from the vehicle.

"All right," Xane agreed, moving to follow him making a show of nervousness.

"If I leave you out here the guards will chase you away," the man noted...pulling a handgun from below his seat. He slid that down the back of his pants, and pulled out a second. It disappeared in the same area, and Xane shut the car door.

He didn't have his weapon. It wasn't something he carried when he was with the boys. Those were the sorts of things that had severely bothered them when he'd first shown up, and he'd discarded it because...well, Wufei _had_ taught him some hand-to-hand. Actually, a fair bit of hand-to-hand.

They moved along the sidewalk and up along the inner parking area. The area had more vans than other vehicles, and if the way of the painting on those vehicles suggested anything, they were all bulletproofed. Chance's SUV had the same look to it...a kind of matte painting job, though it was glossy, too.

Chao grabbed his hand pointedly as they moved through the turn-style door into a busy area. Everyone in the room seemed to turn and _look_ at Xane as he followed. He wasn't going to meet eyes and make enemies, so he had his head partially down. It cut down on the details he could actually gather, but he figured Chao being stopped would be even worse.

"Keep your mouth _shut_," Chao ordered him as he pushed through a door at the end of the hall...and pulled out his weapon.

"God _damn_ it, Chao," Wei snapped in complete irritation as he focused on Xane. "This isn't a fucking dance."

Chao cocked the weapon, aiming it directly at the man in front of him's head. He smiled coldly at the man as he moved around to study his eyes. "You fucked us over."

"No...no, I didn't," the guy protested. "I wouldn't...I told him...I said..."

Chao's smile went even more cold...and he pulled the trigger.

Xane's stomach dropped as almost everyone else in the room jumped...

The man he'd been talking to was completely frozen in his seat...but not dead.

"Damn it," Chao snapped, raising the weapon to open the slide. "Piece of shit," he added...and tossed it to Xane. "Hold that for me."

Xane kept himself from emptying the chamber of the dud shot, keeping his calm as Wei looked him over with amused interest.

"Anything," the guy he'd nearly shot whispered. "Anything, Chaoxiang."

"And what could you do that'd be worth tolerating you?" the man asked, he'd pulled his second weapon out and was holding it negligently.

"You can't ask us _that_ much for the delivery!" a more authoritative man protested, sitting up in his chair. He didn't look like he wanted any attention at all.

Chao aimed his weapon at that man, considering his sites a moment before lowering the thing and shrugging in his charmingly cordial way. "Then you can find yourself another company."

"We've tried every other company in town," the man snapped. "If you don't lower the price..."

"Any outside entities are at the mercy of the wolves, Shire," he said sweetly. "And the lone wolves starve and feed on one another."

Xane committed that name to memory, hoping that somehow he'd get something _useful_ out of this.

"You can't scalp them," the man protested, sitting up straighter.

"No," Wei agreed, sliding into a chair comfortably, "but I bet none will consent...without consulting us first."

Shire looked between them in dismay.

Xane's heart skipped a beat as he wondered _how_ powerful the group _was_. He'd heard stories about people who'd crossed them, but...

"Would you like a pastry, Chris?"

Xane turned his focus onto Junjie, blinking slightly as the man offered him a plate of sweets.

"He's not hungry," Chao snapped over his shoulder at the guy.

Actually, Xane's stomach was growling, but he wasn't going to move until the power play had been made.

"Nonsense, we know we woke you up," he smiled at Shire sweetly. "Chris stayed the night with Chao last night. Chao doesn't like being woken up when he's had a guest, but you were _insisting_ on speaking with him...have a pastry, Chris."

Xane looked to Chao for a final verdict...which seemed to settle Chao's hackles some. He nodded very slightly.

"Thanks," Xane muttered, taking one from the plate.

"Have to keep your stamina up, huh?" Junjie flashed him a truly wicked grin before moving back toward the table. "Chao, have some orange juice?"

"I'm not thirsty," Chao retorted irritably, crossing his arms.

"I just thought I'd offer," the man protested, making a soothing gesture.

"Don't you have an appointment today?" Alvaro asked Xane curiously. "Why are you here?"

Chao tsked, looking daggers at the man.

"I can't...how am I supposed to make a profit with that?" Shire protested at Chao.

"Then deliver it yourself," Chao suggested, focusing back on him.

Xane avoided Alvaro's eyes, which seemed to amuse the man. He studied Xane before raising his own pinky-sheath to his mouth, pressing it to his lips.

The spy ignored that as well, looking toward the opposite side of the room. When he attempted to let his attention move back to the table, Alvaro slid down in his chair, still eyeing him.

Xane shifted uncomfortably. Alvaro hadn't been happy when he'd left with Junjie, and he'd probably been annoyed when Xane had left with Chaoxiang. Chances were he was pissed enough at Chao to use Xane as a pawn for revenge.

Chao frowned, looking back at Xane before glancing at his watch and shaking his head. "I don't have time for this...decide now, Shire."

"I can't just..."

Chao stepped away from the table, looking the rest of the men over before focusing on the man in front of him. "Are we delivering your guns or not?"

Xane's heart _soared_.

"Decide," Chao added, "the moment I step out this door, our deals are suspended for six months." He turned, extending a hand to Xane.

Xane moved obediently to grab that, wishing to get the first name of the man...

"David," someone whispered from behind the guy urgently. "We can just..."

David Shire.

Xane knew it wasn't much, but it was a start. That was one more name than he'd started with.

Chao started for the door.

"All right!" Shire conceded before Chao could open it. "All right, fine..."

"Good," Chao smiled sweetly at him, then looked to Alvaro. He focused finally on Junjie and nodded his head once.

The man looked startled, but Alvaro had focused on the ceiling with heavy lidded eyes.

Chao snorted slightly, and led Xane from the room, taking the weapon and flipping the dud round out onto the floor before tucking the weapon away. "Remind me to take that in with me when we get back to the house," he suggested sweetly to the spy.

"All right," Xane agreed, leaning up to kiss him.

"Mm, adrenaline, huh?" the guy asked, kissing him again.

. . . he had no idea.

"I need to get to my apartment," Xane reminded him as they started across the lobby area.

Chao smirked at him, then turned to a woman who was glaring gat Xane. "Clean that up," he ordered, pointing at the round on the floor...then grabbed Xane's hand again and started from the building.

David Shire...David Shire...

Xane repeated the name to himself, wondering if Jordan would have heard of him or not. It would be lovely if he was on the webbing chart they'd made of people Judas knew...

"Go ahead and call me when you get done," Chao added as they slid into the car, leaning over to kiss him. "I _will_ be here, but you can come back with me, huh?"

"All right," Xane agreed almost dreamily.

"Mm, I wasn't really going to kill that man," Chao added, touching his cheek as he studied his eyes. "I knew it was a dud round."

Xane smiled slightly at him, locking his seat belt into place.

He didn't think anything could go wrong for the rest of his day...he wasn't going to count on it, but his check-in time with Jor would be pleasant.

He wanted to hurry up and get to the embassy so he could call...

"Chris?"

"Hm?" Xane looked back to Chao.

"Alvaro bothers me."

Xane blinked at him.

"And Junjie." Chao studied his expression a moment. "Can you...not?"

Xane blinked even more.

"Maybe...move in with me?" Chao asked quietly.

Xane was stunned, not sure how to respond. Moving in with Chao would definitely help him in the long run, but where would he put the scrambler?

"Don't...don't say anything now," Chao suggested quickly, reassuringly. "Just...just think about it, huh?"

"Do you mean..."

"I like you," the guy agreed, turning onto the bridge again. "I like waking up with you...the idea of the others with you...it really bothers me. Even if you don't want to move in with me..."

"I never said that," Xane noted...and wished he hadn't.

Chao looked to him, studying his eyes.

Xane smiled slightly, raising his own nail to his lip as he thought. He'd made it his thoughtful gesture, and had to remind himself to do it...but anyway. "I'll...I'll think about it."

Chao beamed at him, focusing back on the road. "Be _really_ convincing, huh?"

"Yeah," Xane agreed, looking out the far window with a grin. He understood that to mean talking with the people to 'extend his visa'.

He seemed to be having a _damn_ good day.

- -

E/N: Thanks for the review, Mariah, I'm glad my original characters aren't bothersome, lol. Mm, My computer is unbroke again, but I haven't gotten to write anymore. I have up through 34 written, but it still might take me a while to get 30 up. I prefer to update daily, but that's not entirely possible at this time, so yeah.


	30. 30

— 30 —

**February 2, A.C. 205. Base. 5:30pm**

Jordan all but scrambled into his house, looking around wildly as Chai jumped and looked back at him. She smiled brightly at him, amused at being startled, then shook her head.

The man relaxed slightly.

"What's up?" Quatre asked curiously, moving from his room.

"You're not wearing your necklace again," Jordan noted, blinking at him.

"It didn't match?" Quatre returned with a grin. He shook his head, then, smiling more. "I kinda missed it, you know?" he moved to climb over the back of the couch. "I can choose if I feel it now or not...at home with you guys I prefer to feel you."

"Quatre, my wife..." Jordan muttered happily...though he was heading for the kitchen.

Quatre snickered evilly. "If we make it a joke, she'll never believe it, will you, pussycat?" he muttered, tickling her foot.

Chai gave him a look, grinning at him and pulling her foot away as the vid started beeping.

"Ah," Quatre noted, understanding the emotions he'd been feeling. Chai'd been getting slightly anxious, and Jor had been bothered when he'd come in.

"Yo," he heard Mouthy say happily. "I was told to be really persuasive in extending my visa."

"No good," Jor returned. "You're not getting anywhere and I need you in Russia."

"Already?" Xane asked in confusion. "But I just got my in."

"Did you really?" Jordan asked skeptically.

"Chao asked me to move in with him."

"You're not there to get _laid_," Jordan noted irritably.

"Don't be stupid..."

"Don't call me stupid. I need you in Russia..."

"David Shire."

Jordan stopped, blinking at the screen.

"He was hiring Chao's...services...to transport some weaponry. I didn't get any further details, just his name and the fact that it _was_ weaponry. Chao also hinted at me going back to the place over the river."

"And through the woods, to grandmother's house we go..." Quatre sang quietly for Chai's amusement. "The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh..."

"You're a month late for that," Chai reminded him with a grin. "Next is Valentine's."

Quatre smiled in return, shifting back where he sat to think about that information.

He had a girlfriend to consider now. He'd had a girlfriend for just better than two weeks.

The thought sent him a little thrill of pleasure as it usually did, and the familiar comfort of Chai's general amusement and Jordan's focus made the moment just that much better.

"What?" Chai asked, blinking languidly at him as Xane and Jordan started to bicker. "You look all dreamy."

"What should I get Simone?" he asked, situating himself forward to talk with her properly.

"Something shiny," Chai returned, sparkling her wedding ring at him.

Quatre grinned at that, looking up toward the ceiling again. He had opted out of buying the girl anymore jewelry. It wasn't like he didn't think she was worth it, she was, but she always got embarrassed that the only stuff she could buy for him was twenty dollar items. He didn't mind, he liked everything she'd bought him, but his buying her expensive things tipped the balance of the relationship off-kilter.

Unfortunately, she thought the money aspect mattered.

"Roses work," Chai added, looking back to the ring. "Chocolate is tradition..."

"Should I buy her clothes, or will that send the wrong message?"

She smirked, looking up to him. "Buy her a teddy."

He flashed her a wicked grin and shook his head hard.

"No?" Chai protested, pretending innocence. "What girl doesn't love a cute little teddy?"

"Say, what, now?" Jor asked, listening with interest.

"You know," Chai returned, grinning happily, "the little stuffed animals?"

"Ah...never mind," Jordan changed focus again.

"And you say _we're_ bad," Quatre griped at her, pretending to focus on the screen.

"What ever are you talking about, darling?" she asked sweetly. "I have a really cute pink one."

Quatre gave her a _very_ level look, because her amusement on the matter covered up her true meaning. He wasn't sure if she meant stuffed animals or items of clothing, and he had no intentions of admitting it or making a comment.

Chai laughed delightedly, recognizing that she'd won and sinking back where she'd been sitting for the previous hour with a happy sigh. "Have you two slept together yet?"

"No," Quatre returned, sinking back himself. "We're just enjoying each other's company."

The girl sniggered some at that, thinking more. "If you really got her a teddy then, she'd probably think you expected it...and that's never a good message to send."

"I thought you meant stuffed animals," he retorted wryly.

"Oh, Quatre-dear," she said in mock concern. "Are you really so naïve?"

He gave her another look.

She flashed him her evil little smile, thinking more. "Maybe...well, clothing would probably be bad unless you're with her and she's eyeing something. But that shouldn't be counted as a holiday gift."

"I saw a necklace the other day," he noted, thinking back some. Jordan had been with him and trying damn hard to figure out if it was a design his wife would like or not. He hadn't wanted to ask her about it in case she did like it. "It was a ruby..."

"Not that horrible heart shaped thing?" Chai asked him, sounding mildly revolted.

Quatre frowned at her. That answered that question nicely and she'd never know Jordan might have sub-standard tastes...

She made a face. "It's cloying...I suppose Simone might like it. She's tomboy enough that girlie things will be fun for her, but...I don't know."

"Maybe a diamond..."

"On Valentine's day I'd almost say it should be engagement," she noted.

"I don't think she's ready for that," Quatre refuted, looking away. "I thought women liked diamonds."

"We do," Chai agreed, indicating her wedding ring again. "We like them a lot."

Quatre grinned at that.

"Just get her something simple," she suggested easily. "Go wander the store and see what you can find, then pick something up there. Maybe you could add in a nice cashmere sweater or something simple like that, then take her somewhere nice to eat."

...it was brilliance.

The blond stared at the female in disbelief.

"You're...special," she decided, snuggling around a pillow more.

"I'm _trying_," he retorted a bit petulantly. "At least I'm _trying_."

"I'm not saying anything against you," she reassured him with affection. "I'm just saying that you're overcomplicating matters. Don't over-think this."

"I know," he muttered quietly, considering how he might get closer to her. There was no appropriate way to do it, though, so he settled further in his spot.

He doubted he'd ever _really_ tell her, but he was _damn_ glad she was in his life. She'd made things better when he didn't think they _could_ be, and she was completely at ease to continue that simple assistance. Since she'd come, his entire existence had been _better_.

He sighed slightly as Jordan continued bickering with Mouthy, relaxing down completely where he lay. He couldn't wait for Simone to get her free time. He wanted to take her shopping.

- -

**February 2, A.C. 205. Base. 6 pm**

"I love how you pretend you know what you're doing all the time," Morgan muttered to Wufei as he watched the guy sketching. "You don't even draw that good."

"Since I've never done anything artistic in my life," Wufei agreed distantly. He knew Morgan was bored, and the fact that Wufei hadn't smoked in a month or better was making _him_ antsy, because he didn't have anyone to smoke with.

Morgan had never liked to smoke alone, so the craving on top of denying it always put him in a lovely mood.

Wufei almost wondered if it'd be worth it to _keep_ smoking.

"I know you haven't," Morgan returned, happy to have gotten a response. "So what are you doing?"

"Trying to think of something Quatre won't be embarrassed to wear."

"What?" Morgan asked in confusion.

Wufei stopped, looking up to him. He hadn't actually _intended_ to say that. He'd only barely admitted it to himself, let alone to Morgan...

Morgan laughed, giving Wufei a look that suggested he didn't believe it.

Wufei flashed him an agreeing sort of grin, looking back to his work.

It wasn't like Quatre was picky or anything. He'd probably be happy to wear the necklace as it was for several years before suggesting they come up with a design...granted, though, that Wufei wanted Quatre's company to make the things. He was not only trying to make it as cheap as he possibly could, but also aesthetic enough that the part of the population that had the empath ability would be content to wear the things, no problem.

"Seriously, though," Morgan noted, bringing Wufei's attention somewhat back to him. "What are you doing?"

"Morgan," Wufei said almost exasperatedly as he looked up to his friend. "I learned how to pilot a mobile suit in outer-space with zero gravity when I was all but a child. I started cutting hair at ten, I can speak three languages...repair _gundams_, I was the highest threat, and I train a special force units in close and dirty hand-to-hand combat. With that sort of résumé, do you honestly think simple metal-works are _beyond_ me?"

Morgan studied him a moment before he tilted his head with a slightly wicked grin. "Yes, actually, I do."

Wufei considered him without changing expression for a second, then decided the irritation was true enough. "You have two minutes before I chase your ass down."

The fact that Wufei had actually chased him down in the past and given him some fairly significant bruises proved this a genuine threat...so Morgan decided on expediency...and ran.

- -

**February 2, A.C. 205. Base. 7 pm**

"I need you in Russia!" Jordan exclaimed irritably. "I already told you that!"

"Jordan," Xane protested, "I _just_ got an in!"

"That situation is too damn dangerous!" Jordan's voice rose irritably.

"Just give me two more weeks!" Xane half shouted at him.

Quatre frowned as he tucked his wallet into his jeans. Jordan kept hanging up on Mouthy, but Mouthy would just call back after a few minutes, so the pair were getting into the actual arguing stage.

Considering that commanding officers weren't supposed to argue with their team members, Jordan was going to need to _order_ Xane to leave.

He could tell that wasn't even close to what Jor was thinking.

"Hey," Quatre muttered, moving into the screen and looking to Xane. "You keep this up and he's going to order you to leave."

They both fell silent and settled where they were standing, blinking at the blond. Neither of them had even considered that option.

"You're supposed to listen to us," Quatre added pointedly to the spy. "We know what we're doing."

"But...I could really find something out here," Xane said quietly, looking down. "You know that this is the gate...if I can find out where it's coming from we can close it _down_..."

"But if you cross those play-boys of yours they'll hunt _you_ down...you'll be a permanent mark, with possibly a bounty on your head," Jordan shook his head. "I'm not doing that to you."

"Just two weeks," Xane protested, looking back to him genuinely. "Only...I can play it like that's all the extension they'd give me and stay with him and get what information I can..."

"Xane," Jordan snapped irritably, "the danger out-weighs the benefits! You should have _known_ I'd pull you out if any of them fell for you, especially _Chaoxiang!_"

"Jordan, _please_," Xane protested genuinely, studying his superior with stricken eyes. "You call me your second and I do the _least_ in our group...hell, you're keeping Danielle near you and even _she_ did more than me...just let me _try!_"

Jordan settled back, still frowning.

Quatre shook his head very slightly, waving vaguely at the screen as he started from the room. Offering his pride up for butchering was a good move. There was no way in hell Jordan would be able to refute that. Xane had won his two-week extension, and Jordan would very likely be in a seriously bad mood for it.

"Where are you going?" Chai asked curiously, moving from the garage to give him an interested look.

"Simone has her free time, I'm gonna steal her and run to town for an hour or two."

"Don't keep her up too late," she cautioned. "Jordan doesn't call them in until about ten..."

"I _know_," Quatre retorted in mock offense.

"No," she protested, "they still have to get up with everyone else."

Quatre blinked at that, then nodded slightly at the woman and ducked out the front door. He hadn't realized they had to make first light with everyone else. He thought their being on the specials team had them immune to that since they didn't do anything else during the day. His own unit wasn't exactly military trained, and that situation was different.

He slid into his car, then blinked as his phone started ringing. "Hello?" he asked, flicking on the speakerphone option and setting the thing in his lap.

"Hey, little brother," one of his sisters said happily. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Quatre noted, frowning slightly as he put his car in gear. "What's up?"

"You don't know who I am, do you?" she laughed happily.

"I'm sorry, but if I talked to all of you on the phone regularly I probably wouldn't be able to tell who was who. I'm _doubting_ you're Ainslie or Karen, does that count?"

She laughed delightedly. "This is Kiley."

"Oh, hey," he greeted her much more happily. "What's going on?"

"Well," she returned, "Carl is going to have a conference in Inado...it'll be a three day thing."

"That's your husband, right? Not your boyfriend?"

She guffawed at that.

Quatre grinned, heading more properly toward the barracks. "So are you coming to see me?"

"I was thinking about it," she returned. "Me'n Richard. His dad always complains about empty hotel rooms at the end of the day. They'll still be empty when he comes in, but we'll get home eventually."

Quatre laughed at that. "All right, when does it start?"

"Monday," she returned. "But we'll come in Sunday."

"Okay," he agreed happily, noting his girl standing near the entrance of the building. "I have to go now..."

"Is she pretty?" Kiley teased.

"Ravishing," he retorted dryly as she perked up, recognizing his car. "Call me when you get in."

Kiley laughed happily. "All right."

- -

**February 3, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 12pm**

Chao's eyes were bright as he pulled up in front of the spot Xane was standing at. "Hey, gorgeous, goin' my way?"

Xane flashed him a half-hearted smile, sliding into the car.

"What's wrong?" Chao asked, studying his eyes in concern.

"Two weeks," Xane replied, slumping in his seat.

"What?" Chao protested, putting the car in park. "Why?"

"I've been here this long without getting a job," Xane returned, rubbing at his eyes.

Chao stared at him in disbelief before looking to the building.

"I can appeal at the two week mark," Xane noted pointedly. "If I get a job, they might reconsider."

Chao snarled out a line of curses that were beyond Xane's understanding, putting the car back in drive and pulling out into the roadway. Actually, he was snarling more in some dialect to the point that the only word Xane _could_ understand was "see".

"What?" he asked, making sure his face registered the confusion. "I don't understand..."

That startled Chao, turning to meet his eyes. He studied the guy a moment, then smirked very slightly. "You don't know any dialects, do you?"

"Considering how many of them there are and how widely they vary," Xane retorted, "it doesn't exactly do the schools any good to teach it."

Chao laughed as they pulled up to a stop light, leaning over to mutter something in Xane's ear before biting it.

"What?" Xane protested, meeting his eyes.

Chao's laughter was naughty as he caught Xane's hand in his, focusing back on the road with a smile. "You just need to move in with me," he suggested. "They wouldn't dare cross me."

"I'm...not sure..." Xane protested, looking to the dashboard.

"No, Chris," Chao leaned over to nip at his ear briefly, "if you live with me, that means you have financial backing. And we can find you some stupid little waiter job or something...something that only needs like...ten hours a week," he studied Xane's face a moment. "That would reassure them...and then I'll have a talk with them if they decide to refuse."

Damn it! That was what Xane was trying to avoid. It'd taken him _forever_ to convince Jor that he could stay at all...

"Come on," Chao cajoled, raising their combined hands to his mouth so he could kiss Xane's knuckles. "If it doesn't work, it's only two weeks."

Xane gave him a look at that, smiling very slightly.

"What do you say?" the guy muttered.

"Let me think about it," Xane suggested, meeting his eyes briefly. "I want to change again..."

"You look damn good, though," Chao protested, looking the slacks over before letting Xane's hand go and sliding his own along the guy's inner-thigh. "Keep this on, huh? Make'em all damn jealous because you're with me..."

...so as far as Chao was concerned, he'd gotten his way? Xane didn't protest, sliding back more in his seat. He didn't need to have any real arguments for this set-up, and living with the guy for two weeks wouldn't be hard. Hell, if he didn't unpack all the way, he could leave the scrambler in his bag. There was no way in hell Jordan was letting him stay beyond that anyway, so as long as Xane could direct the guy away from his idea of making the authorities cooperate, it would be fine.

At any rate, he'd have to come up with something significant to prove to his superior that this was the right thing to do.

At least it was only two more weeks.


	31. 31

— 31 —

**February 4, A.C. 205. Base. 5 pm**

Trowa sighed tiredly to himself as he sat alone in the apartment, listening to the vast amount of nothing around him.

The only problem with it was that he spent a damn lot of time alone.

Before, he'd had Deb and all of the others living in the house. Since they all lived there, he hadn't been alone, and then when he would be he could just go find his girlfriend. Now, Wufei was the only one there and he kept disappearing. Doug was busy until seven, and Raul was in Russia.

On top of that, Trowa'd gotten into the habit of smoking when he was alone. Wufei didn't seem to notice the smell when he came in, and since the only other person who'd have realized the drug was present was Chance, and Jor, he didn't really run the risk of getting caught since he went to them, not them going to him.

But he didn't need to be addicted to vrit...he really really _didn't_.

He ran a hand through his hair, realizing that he really felt ill. It was a general sort of malaise that seemed to stretch from where his neck started to his calf muscles. He'd had the headache for the day, and he knew if he actually stuck with this, it'd get worse before it got better. He'd seen Wufei go through the stages of withdrawal pretty bad at the beginning...then he'd just get antsy and start fiddling with pens or small thin things to help with the habit part of it...but the first while he'd gone off smoking he'd been damn pissy.

So...maybe draw? Trowa looked around for a pencil or notepad. It didn't take him too long to gather up the items, and he moved back to the couch, digging out the remote. He flipped through the channels until he found a news station and settled where he was sitting. He still felt alone, but the voice was a pleasant thing...

He focused on the notepad.

- -

**February 4, A.C. 205. Base. 5:30 pm**

"Hey," Wufei muttered, moving into the living room with interest.

Trowa didn't really believe in watching television, he never had. He died to go do real shows when there was one in town, plays or carnivals...but he didn't do too many movies and he almost never had the tv on, especially when he was home alone.

"Hey," Trowa said, looking up to him and blinking several times before frowning and starting to rub at his temple. "What's up?"

"Not too much," Wufei returned, moving toward his bedroom. "Me and Mor are gonna go have drinks at Sins...and supper. You wanna come?"

"All right," Trowa looked happy as he stood and swayed slightly.

"You okay?" Wufei asked, stopping to frown at him. He'd noticed some small things about his friend over the past few days that didn't quite make sense. If he wasn't engaged in a conversation, his attention couldn't stay in one place.

"I'll...just a headache," Trowa returned, touching his temple again.

"There's some ibu in there," Wufei reminded him, pointing toward the bathroom. "You should take it before we go or you're gonna regret it. I'm thinking it should be a pick-up night, so I'm not inviting Chance or Jor...or Cat, come to think of it," he grinned at his friend, waiting to see if he agreed with the plan or not.

"I bet I can get two," Trowa noted happily, moving into his own room.

"Ha!" Wufei accepted the challenge happily, moving to gather his clothes up. "You wish!"

"I'll share my extra with you," Trowa reassured him happily, disappearing into his bedroom. "Lord knows, you'll need the help..."

"Just for that, I won't share _my_ extra with you," Wufei retorted happily.

"Hm," Trowa moved back to the door to look across the hall at him. "I bet you that karma's gonna come kick both our asses and Mor'll be the only one to bring anyone home."

Wufei grinned at that, and headed for the bathroom.

- -

**February 4, A.C. 205. Inado, California, United States. 6 pm**

Quatre smiled slightly as Simone let him feed her a bite of a decadent cheesecake, happy to be near her. She was so damn pretty no matter what she did, and her lips...

His thoughts wandered over that as she leaned into his arms again...but something tugged at his senses. He felt someone enter the building that caught his attention...

"Hm?" Simone asked, following his gaze toward the entrance...to see Wufei moving through the inner doors. She giggled wickedly, turning to nuzzle at him. "Want to hide?"

"What?" he asked, looking down at her in disbelief. He felt a focus on his person and looked up again to see Wufei grinning at him from across the room.

Simone laughed at that, turning to look to the man and starting to stand.

"You don't have to salute him when he's dressed in tight pants," Quatre noted wryly. "I think it would make him uncomfortable anyway."

"Are you sure?" she asked nervously, but he'd wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from actually standing.

"Why are you here?" Wufei asked happily, moving over to drop across from them and smile. "Hi, Simone. You look lovely."

"Uh...thank you..."

"Don't say it," Quatre suggested, grinning.

"What?" Wufei asked, giving him a curious look and blinking.

"She really wants to stand up and salute you," Quatre explained in amusement.

Wufei flashed her a slightly wicked grin and shook his head. "I'm not dressed to be properly respected."

"It just seems so..."

"You're a good girl," Wufei reassured her with a wink, then turned to the door and whistled sharply. Quatre followed his gaze to the door to see Trowa and Morgan moving through it and looking at them.

Half the club was looking at them, but that was beside the point.

"You know, I'm not here to hang out with my friends," Quatre noted pointedly.

"Oh, don't be an ass," Wufei returned. "We're here to eat supper, then hit the dance floor. We won't take more than a half hour to eat, max."

"I'm taking my _lady_ out for _supper_," Quatre retorted.

"And she _is_ quite the lady," Trowa noted, sliding up to the table to look Simone over.

Simone gave him a challenging look, shifting forward slightly so he had a better view of her chest–she was wearing a low cut top with a sweater and a pair of slacks that seemed to _flow_ over her body.

"Damn," Trowa muttered, looking away.

"You talk big talk," she muttered, still grinning at him while she ignored the fact that Morgan hadn't bothered to avert his eyes. "But you're not so wicked."

"Oh, no, pussycat," Trowa half whispered, leaning down to her ear. "I'm more wicked than you know, but you have to build these things from the ground up. A show of chivalry to gain the trust, a sweet word to catch the ear...a naughty touch to make you think..."

Quatre kicked him in the leg.

Wufei and Trowa both started laughing and Morgan backed away from the table nervously.

"Do you _mind_?" Quatre demanded.

Wufei started laughing, sliding from his spot. "Come on, let's get our food."

Quatre glowered after them as they walked away, joking with each other...then realized that Simone was anxious. "What?" he asked, focusing back on her quickly. "What's wrong?"

"I just...he's a _general_!" she explained, still alarmed.

"_Lieutenant_ general," Quatre corrected, raising an eyebrow at her. "And he was just talking complete shit to _you_."

"But..."

"So what am I?" Quatre protested, amused by this.

She blinked at that, too.

"Come on, we're in Sins...it's nothing for you to worry about."

"But..."

"But...what?" Quatre asked, leaning forward to kiss her briefly...she didn't respond, but kissed him back, then kissed him again...

Quatre felt that pull again, frowning as he looked around to see that Trowa and Wufei were at the buffet trying to trip each other while Morgan stood on the opposite side of them with a skeptical expression.

"What?" Simone muttered, looking around herself.

Jordan moved into the building with Chai's hand in his...and Shin's in his other. Chance was walking behind them with a strut that suggested the others were walking away from him...though they were all grinning and generally amused.

Simone blinked.

Chai looked around with interest, then turned toward the buffet area and stopped, smiling as she spotted Quatre.

"I think we may as well give up this date as a lost cause," Quatre mused as Jordan and Chance spotted him in unison. They both had wicked glints in their eyes and the same body posture, which generally meant they were out for trouble.

"I liked having time with you?" Simone offered, looking back to him.

"We don't have to stay with them long, just eat some, huh? Dance a bit?"

"You just want to dance with Chai," she teased.

"Shh," he whispered in her ear, standing. "Don't tell my girlfriend."

She giggled at that and smacked him.

"You want anything else?" he asked, gesturing toward the buffet.

"Yeah," she agreed as Shin took her sweater off and draped it on the chair across from them. "Hi, Shin."

"Hello," Shin returned as Chai followed suit and both ladies ditched their purses.

When Quatre moved to follow, Chai and Shin both turned to him in confusion.

"What?" he asked.

"Someone has to stay with the purses," Chai explained, gesturing at the table. "Please?"

Quatre blinked more at her.

"I'm starving," Shin agreed, grabbing her stomach for emphasis. "Simone can get whatever you'd wanted, right?"

"That's fine," Simone agreed, her emotions turning amused as they walked away exchanging greetings.

Quatre sighed and moved back to drop in his seat, pulling his necklace out and fixing it around his neck.

- -

**February 4, A.C. 205. Inado, California, United States. 9 pm**

"He'll bring you to my place for breakfast," Chai noted with interest to the woman Trowa had left with she and Shin while he ran to the bathroom.

"But is he worth my _time_," the woman retorted.

"Oh, sure," Chai reassured her in amusement, noting that Jordan was eyeing her from across the room. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"How do you know he'll take me to your place?" the woman demanded, giving Chai a very wry look.

"Because she's the only one who _makes_ breakfast," Shin noted in amusement.

Chai started laughing, strands of her hair falling forward. She took her shot, then looked to Shin.

"You're kidding me, aren't you?" Shin demanded, raising an eyebrow at her. "You're joking, right?"

"Oh, do it," Chai protested happily.

"But I haven't talked to Chance yet," Shin said, her eyes going wide.

Chai started laughing hard. "_What?_"

Shin broke into her own laughter and took her shot.

The woman looked between them both with interest, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"What?" Chai asked, waving the bartender over.

"I'm not getting drunk tonight, tea," Shin said pointedly.

"Oh, now _that's_ original," Chai noted dryly. "And if you're getting drunk already, you're a light weight."

Shin guffawed at that.

"You two..."

"We're Angels girls, lovely," Shin noted.

The woman blinked between them, and they all turned to focus on Simone as she broke from the dancing crowd with a breathless laugh, moving to lean against Chai's side.

"Oh really?" Shin asked curiously. Her long black hair was down, and she was wearing a teal tank top with black slacks and boots. One of the straps of her tank top had slid off her shoulder, and since they had been dancing until right before Trowa had gone to the bathroom, her hair looked a little wind-swept.

"Really," Simone agreed, sliding between Chai and the woman to lean against the bar. She'd lost her over-shirt at some point, and her blond hair was starting to fall out of its setting.

"Are you all right?" Chai asked, smiling down at her as she gestured the bartender back to them. Her own dark hair was pulled into a bun, and though quite a bit of it was escaping, it didn't look mussed. She was wearing a black top over tight black jeans and boots.

The newcomer didn't have that same elegance, and Chai had already noticed her noticing. Finding out they were from the slums was probably shocking.

"I'm just a little breathless," Simone muttered, resting her head on her arms. "I've never been able to come in here before."

"You can't drink alcohol yet, poppet," Shin noted happily. "That pretty orange band on your wrist is a rare find."

"It's because of Cat," Chai reminded her friend. "He vouched for her and not many people will overlook his...credentials."

They both started laughing at that, hard.

"Credentials?" the new girl asked blankly. "He got a big package or something?"

Simone's cheeks colored very slightly as Shin and Chai laughed even harder.

"What are you telling lies about now?" Trowa asked happily, moving up to the group. "Not talking about me, I hope?"

"Your ears burning?" Chai asked, grinning wickedly at him.

"They should be," Shin agreed casually, sipping at the glass the bartender passed to her. "They really should be..."

Trowa blinked at her, then back to Chai.

He couldn't tell if they were serious or not.

Shin laughed wickedly, downing her drink...and Chai followed suit. He looked to Elisha blankly as...the pair disappeared back onto the dance-floor, dragging Simone with them.

Elisha grinned slightly, meeting Trowa's eyes.

"Should I be worried?" he asked curiously, studying her lips again.

"Buy me a drink?" she asked sweetly, sliding closer to him.

Trowa grinned at that, looking after the three women again. Shin and Chai had started dancing on either side of Simone. The younger female looked a little flushed and embarrassed, but the older pair seemed to be drinking in the attention that focused on them.

Those two were dangerous.

"Mm, if I have to buy my own I won't be too happy," Elisha purred at him.

"Ooh," he muttered, focusing back on her as he waved to the bartender. "Can't have that now, can we?"

- -

**February 5, A.C. 205. Vladivostok, Russia. 3 pm**

Raul sank heavily into the crap couch of another crap apartment in another country where he knew no one and didn't speak the local language.

He was tired...he felt defeated. Jordan had sent him to so many different cities, and he could come up with nothing. He hadn't even come close to finding anything out. He was even more off since the entire syndicate had finally gotten smart about the government being on them.

Jordan should be getting up for work around...

Raul blinked as he realized it was Saturday.

He rubbed his hands along his shoulders, feeling the disappointment work more into his stomach.

He couldn't do this right now.

His stomach lurched slightly with the emotion of it and he dropped over sideways on the crappy couch and considered the table in front of him. It was severely overly used. It had about four nails holding it together, and the set nearest him looked about to fall apart. The wood was worn and warped, stained...the carpet looked greasy, and the entertainment center wasn't in much better shape.

He didn't want to be in Russia. He didn't want to be chasing after some random colonel who'd fucked over the idea for peace to line his pocket.

The phone started ringing.

Raul shoved himself up from where he was collapsed and grabbed the thing, setting it against his ear. "What?" he asked tiredly.

"Kody?" Vlad asked, sounding uncertain.

"Yeah?" Raul returned in a less pissy tone.

"What's up your ass? Or should I call back later?"

"What, Vlad?" Raul asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Don't sound so enthused to see me," the man muttered dryly.

"We're on a phone, the word you mean is _hear_."

"Hear, see...it's all the same difference. You coming down to the bar or not?"

"Why?"

"Because I've got David coming and he'll be tired and might listen to you."

Raul sat up. "Really?"

"Sound so enthused for an insult," the man muttered in vague amusement.

"I take you at your word," Raul retorted, climbing off the couch. "I'll be there in five."

"He's in a bad mood," Vlad mused almost to himself. "Something about fees from some guys in China. Bunch of damn dandies, you know? They raped his wallet and there was nothing he could do about it."

Raul snorted slightly, tucking his own wallet into his pocket. "I'm out the door."

"Eager," Vlad noted in amusement.

Raul snorted into the phone properly, then ended the call, tossing the thing onto the couch as he started for the hall.

Maybe this wouldn't be another failure after all.

- -

**February 6, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 10am**

Xane opened his eyes tiredly to blink at the empty spot on the bed next to him, then rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. It only took him a moment to realize he was in Chao's bedroom...and only a moment after that to realize he had moved in with the guy.

It was a strange thought. James had moved in with _him_...

He looked to the door as Chao moved into the room in jeans. He had some sort of book in his hands, but he was heading into the bathroom on quiet feet.

He was _eerily_ quiet...how hadn't Xane noticed that before?

The spy rubbed at his eyes as the other pissed, pushing himself up as the water ran.

"Hey, sleepy," Chao muttered, moving from the bathroom to kiss him briefly. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

"I haven't gotten good sleep in a while," Xane retorted. "How are you up?"

"I didn't really sleep," Chao noted, dropping next to him and leaning against him. "I have some shit to do today."

"You want me to come?"

"No," the man had no hesitance in his voice. "I'll leave you some money so you don't get bored while I'm gone."

"I don't need your money, Chao," Xane noted pointedly, smiling slightly at him.

The guy guffawed at that, standing up. "Right, you've been here _how_ long without getting a job? If your family had money your visa wouldn't be a problem."

"When I realized I was staying longer, I budgeted my money," Xane frowned at him.

Chao considered that a moment, then leaned down to kiss him again. "You hungry?"

"Not yet, no," Xane returned, throwing back the blankets. "I'm showering."

"You should get more of those pants," the guy muttered, pulling Xane to him before he could pass. "Like you wore to the interview?"

Xane blinked at him.

"I'll meet with you at two?" the guy offered, studying his eyes sincerely. "We can find some good shirts?"

If he hadn't needed to keep the man happy, Xane would have denied the idea. It wasn't like he minded wearing slacks at all, he knew he looked good in them. The issue with slacks was that they were uniform, or similar. He didn't need the guy to realize he was a _marksman_ with his handgun...or the rifle...or...well, any projectile weaponry.

"No?" Chao protested, turning on his charm. "If you have more of them, you'll wear more of them," he noted, nuzzling Xane's ear. "And if you wear them more you'll keep my attention..."

"Do I have to worry about your attention wandering?" Xane retorted in amusement. Chao had started rocking them at some point...

The guy laughed a bit wickedly at that.

Xane noticed the book again and leaned into the man's embrace, tucking his head under the guy's chin so it wasn't strange for him to be looking down.

Chao sighed, wrapping his free arm around Xane, but not moving the book.

_Shire, Pelbrook, Smirnov, Tsai_ were the column names...and underneath that were various numbers.

"We need to get you a job," Chao noted, nuzzling at his ear. "Tomorrow morning, huh?"

"All right," Xane agreed, pulling away. Considering that Shire was the surname of the man from the day he'd called Jordan, he assumed those were all last names. None of them meant anything to him, but it was more information to send back to Jordan anyway. Maybe Judas or Raul had come up with more names.

"Mm," Chao muttered, kissing him. "You shower, I'll finish this up..." he dug into his back pocket a moment, pulling out his wallet without letting Xane pull away.

"Chao," Xane protested as the guy pulled out a handful of cash. "I told you..."

"I'll spend it on you anyway," Chao noted, meeting his eyes.

Xane smiled back at him slightly, realizing he genuinely _liked_ the man. He could be a complete asshole, but he _did_ care.

Chao smiled his triumphant little smile and kissed Xane again before shoving him at the bathroom. The thump on the bed behind them suggested to Xane that he'd dropped the money on the mattress. "You sure you're not hungry?"

Xane leaned slightly against the doorjamb, considering the guy for a moment before smiling and shaking his head. "I won't be hungry for another hour or two."

"So if I made you something, you wouldn't eat it?"

"Probably not," Xane noted, smiling even more at him. "And then I'd feel guilty."

Chao flashed him another of those genuine smiles and disappeared from the bedroom.

Xane shoved away from the door and flicked the bathroom light on, considering his throat. For some reason, Chao felt the need to cover it in hickies. That little possessive streak of his was a bit annoying, and if he could be in _uniform_ he could _say_ something to the guy and get him to quit, but until Alvaro and Junjie lost interest in him, Xane was going to have to put up with being tagged as property.

Really, he wasn't used to submitting in the relationship. Obviously Chao didn't even consider it an option, but Xane never had before either. He didn't really like being allowed to sleep in and teased about it. He didn't like being the one to take the money...and he really didn't like that he wasn't in control of the situation.

But it _was_ only two weeks...and maybe he could leave _without_ betraying the guy. If he could just _go_ he could end the relationship without upsetting Chao at all, and that would quell Jor's fear of him being a bounty-head.

Though, really...Xane didn't figure Chao'd have someone else do it for him. With how close he saw the two of them, Chao'd want to do it himself.

The spy shook his head as he started the water.

It wasn't his ideal situation, but then again he was fully intending to give Jordan the four names on that sheet of paper, and the next chance he got of Chao being gone, he was totally going to dig through the guy's files. If he got the chance, he was also going to get into the guy's call record for his cell and send that back home, too.

Xane smiled slightly to himself as he started the shower and turned to dig out a towel. There was no point dwelling on what couldn't be changed. He just needed to go with it.


	32. 32

— 32 —

**February 6, A.C. 205. Base. 1 pm**

"Hi, little brother..."

Quatre snorted slightly. "Can you _not_ call me that?"

"What?" she protested. "You are!"

"That's entirely beside the point."

"How do you even know who I am?"

"Kiley?" Quatre asked, realizing that the voice wasn't quite right.

"No, this is Emily."

Quatre started laughing to himself, looking at his watch.

"What?" she protested. "What's funny?"

"Kiley and Richard are going with...Clark? Kiley's husband is Clark, right?"

"Carl," Emily returned in amusement.

Quatre flinched appreciatively, then realized they were on the phone and she couldn't see it. "Oops."

Emily sniggered at that. "I don't think there _is_ a Clark, Superman."

"Hahaha," Quatre retorted. "I remember liking your husband, does that count?"

She laughed again.

"Anyway," he shook his head. "Emi...Kiley and Richard are coming into town tonight. I guess _Carl_ has a conference that'll go until Wednesday and she wants to come spend time with me."

"Damn it, she beat me to it," Emily muttered.

"If you're flicking me shit for nearly saying _you_ were coming to Inado..."

Emily laughed again. "Actually, I just got bored and decided to bless you."

"So kind," Quatre returned in a mock thankful voice.

His sister laughed even more, then sighed a happy sigh. "What are you doing? Are you busy?"

"No, I'm just kinda collapsed in my room. I'm a little hung over yet."

"Oh _really_ now?" Emily demanded wryly. "And you didn't buy any Bloody Mary mix?"

"I had two packets, sister-dear," Quatre retorted dryly.

Emily fell silent.

"Yeah, we went out last night," Quatre explained. "Well, I took Simone to Sins..."

"Wait, what?"

"Sins? It's a club thing over here...properly, it's Seven Deadly Sins..."

"You _go_ there?" she demanded, almost aghast.

"All the time," he agreed in amusement. "All you'll have really heard about is the back rooms, I bet you."

"The orgy room and the raver room? That's _so_ wrong..."

"I took my girl to the buffet, then we danced in the bar," Quatre cut her off. "Sins has a flavor for just about every vice. Buffet, gambling, fashion shows...orgy rooms...strippers...I don't remember what all, but the club is usually packed and the music is always good."

"You should do a commercial for them," she noted wryly. "A name like yours..."

Quatre laughed wickedly. "Emily, they don't _need_ my name. Everyone in Inado knows about it, and I'm sure in any direction for a hundred miles. Obviously, _you're_ in the colonies and you know about it. My name would just throw in moral issues and my gazillions sisters."

"Hahaha," she retorted.

Quatre sniggered again.

"Em? You ready to go?"

Quatre tilted his head at the voice in her background.

"Right now?" Emily protested.

"I can...wait," he suggested hesitantly.

"No, it's fine...Quatre?"

"Hm?"

"We're heading in to town," Emily explained. "I'm gonna have to let you go."

"All right," he reassured her easily. "On week days I'm not entirely available from six-thirty to five...weekends I don't generally wake up until nine."

"All right," she agreed. "Later."

"Bye," he returned as the line went dead. He grinned slightly to himself, rolling over on his mattress.

It wasn't going to work...he needed another packet.

He groaned to himself and moved tiredly into the living area where Chai and Jor were curled together on the couch.

"What's up?" Jordan muttered, blinking at him.

"Too much to drink," Quatre explained.

"Sit down," Jordan ordered, crawling from under his wife. "Sit..." he repeated, shoving Quatre lightly toward the couch. "You're not going to puke again, are you?"

"No...I didn't have _that_ much," Quatre returned.

"We need to get Simone something for driving our drunk asses home," Chai noted, moving to curl into Quatre's arms when he sat down.

Quatre blinked at her, but didn't let her realize he was startled.

"We also need to go get the rest of the cars," Jordan agreed, running the water. "You think she was upset with us?"

"I blacked out around when Trowa disappeared," Quatre returned. "I sort of remember him leaving, but..."

Chai started giggling wickedly.

"You might want to talk to your girl sooner than later, huh?" Jordan suggested in his own amusement. "I hate to say it, but you were being an ass."

Quatre felt suddenly and extremely ill.

Jordan laughed a little more...and hit some buttons on the vid.

"Maxwell?" the female sounded startled.

"I need Moreau at my house in five minutes," Jordan returned with authority.

"Yes, Sir," the woman replied, turning away from the machine as she started yelling.

"Jordan!" Quatre protested, trying to scramble from under Chai.

"Oh hush," Jordan returned, offering him a glass. "Drink this. You'll want to be recovered from it before she gets here."

"Was it...bad?" he asked, heading toward the bathroom.

"I thought it was funny," Jordan shrugged. "I'm not sure about the girlie, though."

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut tight, then moved into the bathroom.

He was wrong. He _was_ going to puke again.

- -

**February 6, A.C. 205. Base. 1:05 pm**

Simone moved curiously into Jordan's house, studying her superior's expression uncertainly. She'd never been hunted down and yelled at to get her ass to her superior's like that before. Actually, Jordan hadn't ever had her _summoned_ before, and she wasn't so sure she hadn't done something wrong.

"Morning," Chai greeted her happily from where she was curled up in the corner of the couch.

"Sleep well?" Jordan asked her casually.

Simone focused on him in confusion again. "You needed me?" she returned, saluting him.

He winked at her. "Last night...was bad, huh?"

Actually, Simone'd had a _lot_ of fun. Driving Yuy's SUV on top of that had been a blast. The thing had feather-light steering and just seemed like a _stallion_. Even stopping to let them puke once or twice hadn't ruined her enjoyment of the drive...and that was _after_ the familiar company of the dancing.

The group of them were so intertwined with each other that almost everything they'd said had been an inside joke

"Thank you for driving us home," he added, hugging her very briefly. "We wouldn't have gotten that bad if you hadn't noted that you weren't drinking and could drive us. I want to apologize for that."

"For...what?" Simone asked blankly.

"Our drunken stupidity," Chai returned happily.

Simone blinked at the brunette a moment, then smiled slightly at Jordan.

"Simone?" Quatre sounded uncertain.

The blond perked up slightly, then frowned slightly at Jordan.

"I just wanted to apologize," he reassured her. "I figured the fastest way was to get you out of whatever shit they might have you busy with, and I have rank..._ha_!"

Simone giggled wickedly at that and moved around him to hug her boy.

"Come on," Quatre muttered, not letting her kiss him as he led her toward his bedroom.

The girl's heart skipped a beat or three.

He wasn't going to break up with her, was he? She thought they were having fun...

He shut the door behind them with his hands in his pockets, moving to slump onto his bed without looking at her.

"What?" she asked, her heart beating even more wildly.

He looked up to her sharply, blinking a moment. He considered her eyes in confusion before tilting his head slightly. "Did I...do...something...last night?"

"Like what?" she asked, moving to sit next to him and grab his wrist.

"Inappropriate?" he returned.

She sniggered slightly at that. "You were a little drunk...you kissed a bit sloppy, but..."

"Was I...being an ass?" Quatre asked.

"Yeah, you were telling Elisha that Trowa probably wasn't that good in bed," she agreed, smirking slightly as she considered his expression.

Quatre blinked at her in consternation a moment, then moved across the room to throw the door open...as both Chai and Jordan broke into wicked giggles on the couch.

"You _asshole_!" Quatre half-shouted, darting forward to smack him upside the head...and jump back before he could get grabbed.

Jordan decided it wasn't worth pursuing the matter as Chai buried her face in a pillow, still giggling.

"He _told_ me I was being an ass last night and should probably apologize to you for it," Quatre noted to his girl, turning back to his bedroom door as Jordan laughed harder. "I was all worried I'd tried to talk you into bed or something...I don't remember much of what happened after Trowa left."

"Or that's the moment _in_ it all that you remember," Chai hazarded, looking up to him with a grin. "Fortunately, Elisha could tell you were just fucking with him and didn't take you seriously."

"Who _is_ Elisha?" Jordan asked blankly.

"That chick Trowa was dancing with all night? The one you bought about four extra drinks for?"

Jordan blinked at her blankly.

"Wow," Simone noted, looking to Chai. "He wasn't kidding when he said it went bad, was he?"

"Not in the slightest," she agreed with a grin. "From what I've gathered, he blanked out around when we all went pee and the bartender finally cut us off."

Simone giggled at that, remembering all of their stunned looks as the man had passed them bottles of water and walked away.

"When did that happen?" Quatre asked blankly.

"Before you started being an ass to Trowa," Chai noted, grinning at him. "A good while before, actually."

There was a tap on the door, and they all looked up to see Trowa leading the woman in question through the doors.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest you don't want breakfast," Chai noted, smiling at the girl.

"I'm not terribly hungry, no," Elisha returned, smiling at her before looking to Quatre.

Quatre grinned wickedly at her as Trowa gave him an extremely _dirty_ look.

"Good morning, Elisha," Simone noted happily, moving around to Quatre's side.

"Holy shit, you're a soldier?" the woman asked blankly, noting her uniform. She looked around to Chai.

"I'm the wife of a lieutenant general," Chai explained happily.

Those words processed after a moment before she focused on Jordan.

"Good afternoon," Jordan noted, studying her eyes. "I'm not the only one. All five of us guys are."

The girl looked back to Trowa in amazement.

"Did you _have_ to?" Trowa asked, giving him an annoyed look.

"Of course I did," Jordan noted, bouncing up happily. "We have more Bloody Mary if you need it," he added to the female. "Or can I get you something to drink?"

- -

**February 6, A.C. 205. Base. 4 pm**

Duty moved curiously up to the window of the car that had just pulled in. "How can I help you?"

"We're here to see...uh...Lieutenant General Winner," the woman noted. "He's expecting us."

"Is he?" Duty asked, startled. "He hadn't said anything to me...do you have your guest pass?"

"What?" the woman asked.

"Why would he say anything to you?" a teenage boy asked from the back seat.

Eastland looked the kid up and down, noting a definite resemblance to the general in question. "Because he's my friend," Duty retorted.

"I'm his sister Kiley," the woman said, "this is my husband, Carl Baen."

"All right, Miss Kiley," Duty noted, stepping back. "Come pull up in this parking lot and I'll call the good general and let him know he forgot to mention something to me."

Kiley smiled slightly at that as he turned into the guard hut. Quatre had been muttering about his family coming to visit him one afternoon, or Duty would have asked them to turn around and leave. The car moved smoothly into the lot, and Duty picked up his phone, dialing the number for the man's cell.

"Yes?" Quatre asked curiously.

"General Winner?"

"Lieutenant general," Quatre corrected darkly.

Duty sniggered. "There's this pretty little blond lady here with two men. One looks remarkably like you."

"Kiley?" Quatre asked blankly. "She's already here? I told her to call me first."

"Ah, that explains it, then. I'll give them the directions to your place."

"All right, thanks, Duty. I'll get you something."

Duty laughed appreciatively at that, hanging the phone back up. He met with the woman on the path to the hut, and her expression was worried. "All right, Winner said you're supposed to be here...but when you have to enter a base, calling before you show up is a great idea."

She gave him an embarrassed sort of annoyed look.

"You'll want to take this road here," Duty added, pointing at the road. "All the houses look the same, so you'll want to hit the one before the monster SUV..."

It didn't take them too long to find the appropriate house, and by the time they were parked, Quatre was moving down the stairs with a smile on his face.

"Hey, Uncle Quatre," Richard greeted, bouncing around to hug him briefly.

"Hello, Dick," Quatre returned.

Richard smacked him in the arm as he started laughing, then the younger male's eyes went huge. "I'm sorry!"

"What?" Quatre asked, still smiling as Carl took his hand. "What's wrong?"

"That was...I..."

"We taught him not to hit," Kiley said wryly.

"Mm, then you'll want to steer clear of that little brunette," Quatre suggesting, turning to point at Chai over his shoulder.

"_What_ever!" Chai retorted happily.

"Hi, little brother," Kiley muttered quietly, pulling him into a hug.

"Hi, old woman," Quatre retorted.

She smacked him.

He snickered, but decided not to point it out and turned so Chai moved up to his side. "This is Chai Maxwell," he introduced her. "She's the one that made the Prozac go away."

"You're horrible," Chai muttered, elbowing him lightly.

"She's also his wife," he added, indicating Jordan as he moved from the house as well. "The rest of them will end up here eventually, Chai's the only one who feeds us, without her we'd all be skin and bones..."

"Or something," Chai agreed wryly.

"I'm Kiley," Kiley noted with a grin, shaking the woman's hand. "This is my husband Carl, and that's our son, Richard."

Richard, however, was staring into Chai's face with a sort of bemused expression.

"She's married, Richard," Quatre teased in Italian.

"To me," Jordan agreed, strolling down the stairs to look the boy over interest.

"Yours, too," Richard returned, focusing on _his_ eyes.

"Richard," Kiley hissed.

"They're _purple_!" Richard protested at her.

Chai laughed, offering him a hand. "Nice to meet you."

He blushed, looking down as he shook it.

"We get it often enough," Chai reassured the slightly embarrassed woman. "Jordan actually had a soldier in Vietnam all but beg him for a picture."

"Hi," Jordan added, offering his hand to the woman. "How was the flight?"

"Easy, actually," she returned as he shook hands with her husband and son.

"Let's go inside," Chai suggested. "I can make some tea."

"Kiley," Quatre muttered as they all followed, "look." He raised the necklace with the magnet on it for her inspection.

"Why does it have a magnet on it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "New fashion trend?"

"But only for the empaths," Quatre reassured her happily, letting it fall again. "There's a field created...that's a gundanium chain. The two together interrupt the empathy, so I can be...normal..."

"As normal as you _get_, anyway," Jordan noted happily, moving aside as they all passed to shut the door. "Should I call the crew?"

"Dinner will be done in about an hour," Chai agreed, moving toward the kitchen as Richard looked the living room over with interest.

"Should I just make it us?" Jor asked Quatre. "Or should I..."

Quatre bit his lip as he debated about that one. He wasn't so sure he wanted to introduce Simone to his sister yet...

"His girlfriend needs to come," Richard noted happily to Jordan. "Mom will die if she doesn't get to meet _her_."

"Richard!" Kiley protested at him.

The boy grinned wickedly, shying away backwards.

"I don't care if Trent or Max show up," Quatre added. "Or Riley, actually...and Danielle, as long as Wufei's okay with it."

"I think he growed up," Jordan reassured his friend, moving toward the kitchen.

"I'm not so sure," Quatre returned happily, gesturing toward the couches. "Please, have a seat."

- -

E/N: I AM still alive, promise. Thanks for the reviews, they make me happy, hehe. Anyway, I will be getting back to writing more in the not-so-distant future, so yeah, patience, please! Laters.


	33. 33

— 33 —

**February 7, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

"So would that be okay? Really?" Kiley asked Quatre nervously as she pulled up to the main building.

"Its fine," Quatre reassured her again, moving from the doors. He'd been in his office when his sister had called and told him that Carl had asked her...begged her...to go with him to a meeting.

Actually, Quatre didn't get the impression that there was any begging involved. He figured his brother-in-law had asked and she'd agreed, then realized she had her son on hand...and hey, look, Uncle Quatre isn't even ten minutes away.

Not that he minded at all.

"We have to go," Kiley added as Quatre moved up to the side of her car. She blinked at him a moment, then put the machine in park as Richard climbed out.

"What?" Quatre asked blankly, stepping back as she swung the door open. "Don't you have to go?"

She shook her head distantly, closing the door as Richard moved around, giving her a confused look. "Wow," she added quietly, looking him over from head to foot.

Quatre looked down at his uniform blankly. "Wow? Am I dirty?" he shifted to see his legs better in confusion.

"You look...dashing," she informed him, blinking as she met his eyes.

"What?" he asked her blankly.

"I've never seen you in uniform," she noted, stepping forward to touch the rank tag. "At least...not in real life...oh, Quatre."

The soldier considered that a moment, not entirely sure what to make of her appraisal, then grinned somewhat impishly...and saluted her. Full military salute.

She laughed a little at that, moving forward to hug him.

"You don't need to do that kind of thing to gain respect, Mr. Winner," Carl noted in amusement from the car. "You're very _name_ rings with it."

"But my name was given to me," Quatre returned, hugging his sister before stepping back and leaning down some to look in. "I did this on my own...sort of."

"Sort of?" Carl asked blankly.

"I wasn't the only person fighting in those wars," Quatre reminded him. "And I'm definitely not the only lieutenant general on the base."

That got him a grin.

"You're going to be late," Richard noted, glancing at his cell phone. "You realize that, don't you?"

"Oh..." Kiley hugged Quatre again briefly before smiling at her son and sliding back into the car. She waved at the two males as she quickly hit reverse...then drove off.

"She's...excitable," Quatre noted blankly.

"If you'd ever bothered to talk to her before, you'd have noticed that," Richard agreed.

Quatre turned to study his eyes, then raised his eyebrows. "You know what? I'm not having that conversation with you for another three years. Feel free to be bitter at me if it gets your rocks off," he started for the building. "Come on. I have to organize some shit this morning, then we can go check out the mecha..." he hesitated, turning to look at the boy.

Richard was moving very slowly after him.

"What?"

"How am I supposed to react to that?" Richard demanded, moving to catch up. "You just completely dismissed..."

"The reasoning behind my not getting to know my twenty-eight sisters is a bit complicated," Quatre noted pointedly. "There are layers of self-pity, spite, fear, and empathy mixed in this tight little ball," he made a gesture in front of his chest. "You might be able to see some of it, but evidently I've hurt your mother's feelings, which will be what you get stuck on. It's one of those deep conversations that we won't be having when I'm in full dress uniform and have to go see my superior. Then I have to go see the other generals to fix up our cross-training. When I get that figured out we can have some fun, but this will take an hour or so, so bear with me. Are you anti MS?"

"Anti MS?" Richard echoed, following him into the bustling building and looking around as Quatre nodded almost randomly. It took the nineteen year old a moment to realize that just about everyone they passed were...no...no, _every_one they were passing was saluting his uncle.

"You know? Mobile suits? I can't ever keep clear which sisters are steadfastly pacifist and which just don't like war. I assume you've inherited your mother's preferences, but that doesn't tell me much."

Richard grinned and shrugged as they started up some stairs. "I'm...they're kinda cool, I suppose. I mean, they're _huge_...and the way that you guys could move them..."

Quatre gave him a curious look as they headed for Une's office.

"We did some research on the wars for my social studies class senior year," the kid explained. "I looked up a couple battles that had footage."

The former pilot flinched hard at that, his stomach churning very slightly. Battles weren't pretty things.

"Is that...okay?" Richard asked hesitantly.

"You're your own person," Quatre reminded him. "My approval comes in where money starts coming up."

"That's an asshole thing to say," Richard protested. "Why are you like that?"

"Because I don't like thinking about what you might have seen," Quatre retorted. "It scares me that you might be able to dismiss the casualties and put me up on some pedestal or something."

"We weren't allowed to see the footage with actual casualties," the boy protested. "Most of it was distant air battles...are you...you..." he hesitated, stopping in the little lobby outside Une's office to study his uncle's eyes. "Are you ashamed?"

"I did what I had to do," the former pilot said quietly. "Not what I liked to do, not what I'd ever want to do again...and definitely not what I want you to look at and think is cool. I will admit that we were able to pull some shit. The gundams were exquisite pieces of machinery."

"I don't _like_ war, Uncle," Richard noted quietly, studying his eyes. "I don't like to know that you've killed people...but you had skills in your machine, and you obviously did something right," he indicated the uniform.

Quatre studied him a long moment in silence before nodding his head slightly and tapping on the door.

"Enter," Une said in her I'm-doing-something tone.

Quatre pushed into the office, moving to stand in front of her desk and salute.

"Good morning, Winner," she greeted him, smiling slightly as she met his eyes, then looked to his nephew and blinked.

"This is my long lost twin," Quatre explained happily. "He's been off playing with bunnies."

Une grinned at that as Richard gave his uncle a completely disbelieving look.

Quatre flashed his nephew a grin as well, moving to sit across from the woman. "I need you to okay the training facilities for me," he noted. "I could commandeer them, but I'd rather not piss off that many people."

"Why do you need them?" she asked blankly, meeting his eyes again. "I thought your team was trained."

Quatre pulled out his necklace and displayed the magnet at her.

"That looks cheesy," she informed him. "At least pick the glue off."

Quatre laughed at that, studying the thing and shaking his head before tucking it away. "Don't change the subject. Chang is working on designs that won't clash with the uniforms anyway. What I mean is that my team goes by instinct...or empathy...or whatever you want to call it. Now that we have these I want to train them properly. I'm going to spin them through the others again, but I want to have that building."

Une considered him a long moment before looking back up to Richard, who was standing uncertainly behind him. She smiled slightly at the boy again, then looked back to her pilot. "And what's the point in that?"

"Because I haven't done anything official with my team, and it's starting to look like Jordan's going to couple them with his team and see what babies they make."

Richard choked on that.

"Really, Quatre," Une chided him, frowning. "Show decorum in the uniform..."

"When there are witnesses," he finished for her, then grinned and shrugged. "If you don't do it now I'm just going to come around and pester you about it all day. You know I'll get my way in the end because there's no reason to refute it. Why put yourself through the aggravation? ...or are we neglecting you?"

Une gave him a severely level look before making a flippant gesture with one hand. "Leave me alone and I'll have it on your desk in a couple hours."

"Wonderful," Quatre returned happily, bouncing back to his feet. "Did I ever tell you how wonderful a leader you are?"

"If you're going to flatter me," she retorted, looking back to him again, "tell me I'm pretty and look young."

"I'll make a note and pass it on," he reassured her, starting for the doors. "Have a good day, gorgeous."

She flashed him an appreciative grin as he left the room with another salute.

"You did not...just...do that..." Richard said in amazement, studying the man in shock.

"Didn't I?" Quatre asked curiously. "What did I do, then?"

"Submitted a formal request with proper respects?" the teen offered.

"And you don't speak Italian," Quatre reassured him in the language.

Richard couldn't help but grin at that.

"Come on," Quatre added, starting up the hall again. "I want to hit Chance up first. I can probably get Allul to train them...and if he's got Doe with him I can suggest she finds Paris."

"I didn't think maps were that hard to read," Richard suggested, moving to give him another confused look.

Quatre flashed him an appreciative grin at that and pulled out his cell, hitting the six.

"Yes, oh mighty leader?" Paris asked sweetly.

"I can't seem to find France," Quatre returned just as happily. "My nephew here is interested in it."

"Ooh, he's with you?" Paris sounded happy. "Should I bring the bedraggled peasants?"

There were several protests on that from the background.

"No, just the map will do fine. I can show him the peasants after we establish the kingdom."

"Kingdom?" Paris asked blankly. "Are you saying I'm a king? I can do a king..."

"Sweetie, you told me you were straight," Quatre retorted happily...and closed his phone as Paris started laughing.

Richard was giving him a confused look.

Quatre winked at him, and tapped on Chance's door.

- -

**February 7, A.C. 205. Base. 3 pm**

Jordan grinned slightly as he looked at the folder Richard had just passed him. He'd had the boy run to pick it up for him, and if his heavy breathing suggested anything, he probably _had_ run...but he was expecting things to be exciting, and Jordan saw no reason to disappoint him. It was one of those things the guy would reflect on in time, then wonder why Jor'd had him running, but for now, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Was that all?" Richard asked, studying Jor with bright eyes.

"That was all," Jordan reassured him, resting his hand possessively on the folder as he stared at the name on the tab. "Thank you."

"What is this?"

"The records of someone I _really_ want to get to know," Jordan returned, petting the thing.

Richard thought the man looked a tad manic, so he looked around the office before dropping into a chair across from him. "So...this is your office?"

"Yep," Jordan agreed, sliding the folder closer to him as he met the boy's eyes. "None of us wanted large offices, so Une gave us this size. It suits us mostly."

The kid nodded, studying him again.

"Do my eyes really bother you that much?" the solider asked curiously, studying the kid with a mild grin.

"I've never seen it before," the kid explained, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"I don't really mind, it just makes things a tad uncomfortable. I've only had two people stare into my eyes like that, and I sleep with one of them."

Richard ducked down in his seat, mortified.

"Though I suppose it's three at that," Jordan added, looking up toward the ceiling. "Can't forget Jon, now."

Richard's focus changed to his face instantly.

"How's base life treating you?" Jor added, meeting his eyes innocently. "You thinking about joining at all?"

"Me?" Richard asked in amusement. "Jordan...I'm the next _heir_...I can't _join_ the military...and I can't take orders. I give them, you know?"

"So you'll play soldier for the hour and get bored with it?"

"Or something," the kid agreed, almost rolling his eyes.

That was amusing.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought," Quatre muttered, moving into the office.

"Did you find a pretty girl?" Jordan asked him sweetly in Japanese.

Quatre gave him a look, but ignored the words.

"Its okay, Jordan had me pick some stuff up for him," Richard reassured his uncle, hopping to his feet with that same happy look.

"Cool," Quatre noted, nodding approvingly–the boy looked extremely pleased at that, but it passed quickly. The soldier looked back to his friend. "We're going to the field. Tro's out there working so I figured I'd take him and go see what mischief we could get into."

"If Max is out there, ask him what time lunch normally runs to."

"You know he probably started helping Tro and got set to task."

Jor grinned and nodded. He'd actually had that figured out for a long while. It was beside the point.

"Later," Richard muttered to Jor, waving very slightly before following his uncle from the room.

That was amusing.

Jordan focused back on the folder he'd had the boy pick up for him. If he'd gone to get himself, he'd have been argued with. They'd have demanded why he needed it and what they were supposed to do about it being gone, other nonsensical points until they got permission from Une to let the thing out. Sending Richard with the note changed the situation around to where they could grumble, but the order was written down and it couldn't be argued with a guest civilian, especially when the order came from a lieutenant general.

Colonel Stanly Gomez Turrell, arms disposal specialist extrodanaire...the bastard who disappeared with the arms.

Jordan grinned more to himself and flipped the file open.

Before it was all said and done with, he'd know the man's mother personally.

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 3 pm**

"Hey," Chao muttered happily over Xane's phone.

"Hey, what's up?" Xane returned, moving from the small café he'd started working at the previous day. True to his word, Chao had shoved the job on Xane when he'd woken up Monday morning, and he only worked ten hours a week.

"Something came up," Chao returned, sounding tired. "I can't pick you up...can you get home on your own?"

Xane looked to the bus stop in front of him, wanting to snort. "That's fine...what's going on?"

"Are you sure? I know it's inconvenient, but..."

"Its fine, Chao," Xane reassured him. "It's no hassle. What's going on?"

"David causing more problems," he returned wryly. "Evidently he has a mech that he wants displayed."

Xane's heart skipped a beat. "Really? Can I see it?"

That made Chao laugh a little, and he was silent a long moment. "We'll see," he noted. "I won't be home for another hour or two, okay?"

"All right," Xane reassured him, smirking very slightly. Chao was going to get him in to see the machine, he just wouldn't openly concede to it. He either wanted it to be a surprise or people were there.

"Love you," Chao said quietly...and hung up.

Xane stopped, pulling the phone away from his ear in horror.

Oh, Jordan would be _pleased_ by that one...

He hurried to jump on the bus that had pulled up, sliding his card through the machine before dropping into an empty seat and focusing on putting the phone away.

It wasn't like Chao was the first person to claim love and run. That was when Xane usually started being a bit more of a dick and quietly pushed the person away without causing them actual pain. The only person he'd actually returned the words for was James.

Actually, the fact that Chao had hung up that fast showed that he didn't expect the emotion to be returned. He probably still remembered the bit where "Chris" was so hesitant to actually move in with him, and Xane's other mannerisms of enjoyment, but not a real thing. Maybe he was hoping something would grow there.

That made Xane sad, though, because he did _like_ Chao...despite his less-than-admirable practices. The guy was doing just about everything in his power to win Xane over fully...

Xane shifted down in his seat. He was going home and going to start digging through the man's files, because he needed what information he could get. He felt bad that he was so completely abusing the man's trust in a way that could get him sent to prison, but not bad enough to stop, because he wasn't in China to find the love of his life. He was in China to get more information to stop the arms trading. He was in China to get as many names and connections as he could.

He was in China on a mission.

He shook his head slightly, rubbing at his neck.

Jor was going to be _pissed_. He might even start on again about getting out of there early.

It wasn't going to be a pretty conversation.

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Vladivostok, Russia. 9 am**

"Later, Kody."

"Later, Vlad," Raul muttered, waving slightly as he moved back onto the street.

He was excited.

David Shire, the man with the weapons connection, had agreed that he had mecha for the entertainment of a rich boy from Taiwan. The guy had decided he wanted to rub his money in "Kody's" face, and had invited him along for the viewing.

Evidently it was taking place in China...though David hadn't said where yet. He'd said that they needed to be at his place by nine on Friday, and they'd take his jet to the place in question for the weekend.

Actually, at first he'd said it needed to be the next day, but whoever his resource was in China hadn't had the facilities ready.

Vlad wasn't terribly happy that Raul had been invited along, he'd pulled Raul aside and told him to be _very_ careful in China. He'd said that the people hosting the event were an odd group and that if you crossed them, they killed you or ruined you. Actually he'd been muttering so insistently in Raul's ear that the guy from Taiwan...Juan Tsai...had insisted that Vlad go along as well.

Vlad had managed to wriggle out of it by claiming other duties, but Raul didn't actually _want_ out.

He grinned to himself happily as he headed for his apartment.

He couldn't wait to call Jordan.

- -

E/N: Sorry about how long this one took to get up, I'll try to be better at it...


	34. 34

— 34 —

**February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 7 am**

"So, I'm going to China," Raul informed Jordan happily.

Jordan blinked at the sudden information. "Tell me."

"I was invited in to talk to the merchant," Raul explained. "A man named David Shire."

Jordan's heart skipped a beat.

"There was a rich boy named Juan Tsai there..."

Tsai?

Jordan blinked, startled. He hadn't thought the names Xane had given him would mean a damn thing...so was it a common surname, or the same person?

"He's just some rich pretty boy," Raul added, rolling his eyes. "He's got money to spend and lives on some private island off Taiwan. He was asking about an M.S., and since I was there he decided to rub it in my face that he could afford it and insisted I go with him for the viewing."

"Where at in China?" Jordan asked skeptically.

"They haven't told me yet," Raul admitted with a frown. "Vlad was trying to talk me out of going, so I doubt it's a set up."

"All right," Jordan agreed, studying the guy with interest. "It just so happens that David Shire is a guy Mouthy has mentioned to me. There's a chance you'll be going to Fuzhou."

Raul blinked at him.

"What are you going to do if that's the case?"

"Nothing, if I can help it," Raul returned, tilting his head slightly. "We acted like we didn't know each other before."

"I don't like it," Jor returned, turning to lean backwards against the counter and think. "It's too close."

"We're in the same strip," Raul reminded him. "Judas pointed out that it's all sectioned off."

"All right," Jordan agreed again, turning back to the screen. "Tsai is also a name Mouthy got from Chaoxiang's files. If it's the man himself, you might be in a bit over your head."

"Mouthy will be there," Raul pointed out. "If we really are going to Fuzhou."

"Even so," Jordan noted, shaking his head as he thought. "There's nothing else for it...I can't have you at it alone..."

"...if Mouthy is there, we won't be."

Jordan raised an eyebrow at the man. "The group that Mouthy is in...and the fact that he's being the one and only lover for the leader of that group suggests that his double-crossing is a bad idea. If he crosses them, they'll mark him."

Raul settled back, frowning as he realized that one of the people he relied on wouldn't be able to assist him at all.

"I'll send her," Jordan added, thinking of Riley.

"You sure?" Raul asked, blinking at him. "I thought you wanted the ladies home safe."

"She's resourceful," Jordan dismissed that, starting to rub his neck. "What's the time frame?"

"We leave on Friday and come back on Monday," Raul returned.

"...and its Tuesday..."

"Closer to Wednesday over here."

"Meaning I have to get her out by noon so she has set up time...what other information do you have for me?" he focused sharply on the screen.

"Well, it seems that..."

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 10 am**

"What's the big rush?" Richard asked, watching Jordan's car fly through the gates.

"He's focused," Quatre noted in return, watching the car as it stopped at the end of the driveway. "I wonder what he's up to."

"You don't know?" Richard returned, focusing on him.

"I haven't talked to him since we got up this morning," Quatre returned with a shrug, turning back to Duty. "Anyway, my sister will be coming back to pick him up sometime today. If you can not hassle her on her entrance..."

"I do what I have to do," the man returned almost flippantly. "If she has her pass..."

"I gave them to her already," Quatre retorted. "Just don't give her a hard time on the validation, all right?"

Duty grinned at him, then gestured with his head at the boy curiously.

"My sister got pulled into the talks going on at a conference in Inado proper," Quatre rolled his eyes. "It's fine with me, because me'n Dick get along, but..."

"You are such an _ass!_" Richard protested.

Quatre started laughing, shifting sideways to add the guy into the conversation again. "I was expecting my sister to spend more time with me, but she's special."

Richard's emotions registered annoyance, though Duty was just amused.

"Anyway," Quatre added, feeling almost nervously for his necklace and the magnet in his pockets. "We're heading back to the main to play some more. I just wanted to be sure you were forewarned."

"And you don't believe in cell phones?" the guy asked curiously.

Richard sniggered.

"No, I do, mine is just pretending not to exist right now," Quatre reassured him. "Later, Eastland."

"Later," the guy returned happily, watching them walk away.

"I thought his name was Duty," Richard protested, following after.

"Huh? Oh," Quatre flashed him a grin. "I've never actually learned his real first name, but his sur is Eastland. He's always on duty, though, so everyone has just taken to calling him Duty."

"Oh," the kid considered that, then tilted his head. "Why are we walking?"

"Walking is good for you," Quatre explained. "If I'm not in a rush I just leave my car in the parking lot. Actually, it started because I needed to get _away_ from people, but yeah."

Richard looked around at the buildings on either side of the road and frowned. "Did it work?"

Quatre looked around himself, somewhat glumly. "Not really."

Richard focused on him again. "That seems...hard."

"I was clinically depressed," Quatre agreed, shrugging slightly. "Every moment I lived, breathed, and felt everyone else around me. Back before Jordan came back, it wasn't even a relief to be with the others."

"You don't have the necklace on," Richard noted quietly, looking to his uncle's throat.

"I can choose to feel it or not," Quatre returned, pulling the chain out of his pocket and showing it to the younger male. "This little thing makes that much difference," he almost mused to himself as he studied the slightly swinging chain.

"Where's the magnet?"

"In the other pocket," Quatre reassured him. "If it's in my pocket together it still blocks some out, so I separate them to get the full force again."

"Why?"

"Because I can," Quatre looked back to his nephew with a slight smile. "And that, my friend, is the best motivation in the world."

Richard grinned slightly at that.

Quatre tucked the thing away, sliding his hands back into his pockets. "You have to let me know when you're hungry," he noted. "I won't eat again until noon or better."

Richard frowned, looking slightly uncomfortable a moment, then shrugged. "I haven't eaten yet."

"We can head to the canteen," Quatre suggested, pointing toward the road. "I want some coffee and you can get food...huh?"

"There's a vending machine," the kid protested, pointing toward the main building.

Quatre blinked at him, then shrugged, heading for the building. There was coffee in the lounge, after all.

"I didn't...annoy you yesterday, did I?" Richard added, moving up beside him properly. "Mom said that I shouldn't have gotten annoyed with you about neglecting her."

Quatre met his eyes, raising his eyebrows very slightly.

"Well...she didn't say it _that_ way," the kid conceded, looking away.

"Look," Quatre said, grabbing his arm and looking around them. "There are three people in this house," he added, pointing toward the one behind them. "Two are in the back and one is in the living room and impatient." Quatre pointed at the next house over. "Two in there. One sleeping. Three more...four," he pointed at a house they'd passed before, then across the street. "Two sleeping, one waking up, one focused...that one has a bunch of sleeping minds...three of them," Quatre looked around again, the pointed up the road. "A car is going to stop there in a second with three people in it singing."

Richard opened his mouth to protest...but a junker car did stop at the stop sign in question with two guys visible singing as the driver all but rolled-through the sign. As it passed, a third guy became evident in the back seat.

"And this is as alone as I could get," Quatre added, looking back to his nephew. "I told you I was depressed. I couldn't block any of this out until Chai showed up, and even then _I_ wasn't doing anything."

"I don't see how this has anything to do with..."

"I have twenty-eight sisters living," Quatre cut him off, meeting his eyes. "And when we do our family Christmas, that's at least twenty husbands, and there are fifty some of _you_...all in the house, all close together, all expecting something of me that I couldn't provide. Besides, Ainslie and I tear each other's throats out left and right, then Karen and her disapproval," he met his nephew's eyes again pointedly. "They aren't the only ones who disapprove of me."

Richard blinked.

"I don't think you can even imagine what hell my life was," Quatre added, looking to the overcast sky. "I was never alone and my sisters all thought I'd fucked up. People treated me different...not only for my name but for this...this..." he gestured toward the houses with a frown. "Power?" he suggested, then shook his head. "I don't know..." he shook his head harder. "It doesn't matter now. As far as most of them are concerned I just grew up." He met eyes with the boy again. "I didn't mean anything against your Mom...she and Margrite have always supported me...I never meant to hurt her, but I couldn't care before."

Richard looked away, nodding slightly.

Quatre could feel that he accepted the words, then shrugged slightly and started for the building again. "I don't seem to have anything going on here. I usually go out to the Rest around then. You have any problems with that?"

"The Rest?" the kid looked up to him curiously.

"The mission down in Angels?" Quatre agreed, tilting his head curiously. "Chai started it last year?"

"Oh! She did?" Richard suddenly looked extremely impressed. "I didn't realize it was _her!_"

"Yeah," Quatre agreed with a slight smile. "She's done so much..." he looked away a moment. "I wonder what I could do for her."

"For Chai?" Richard asked, studying him with interest. "Won't your girlfriend get jealous?"

"Of Chai?" Quatre sniggered slightly at that and shook his head. "No...no. Chai is our little mother...she's our tesorina...she's always taking care of us." He shrugged slightly. "Besides, she's married already."

Richard gave him an amused look.

"Come on," Quatre added, grinning back. "Let's go talk to Chance, then hit the rest."

"You defer to Chance all the time," the boy protested. "Why?"

"Because chance is fickle," Quatre retorted, then started laughing to himself as he pulled out his cell. "I'm gonna see if Paris wants to come down with us or not."

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 12 pm**

Jordan looked up from the book he'd been referencing and stopped as he blinked at his brother-in-law.

Nicholas Benning was staring at him with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look as he moved more into the room.

"Hello!" Quatre greeted him happily, bouncing over to shake his hand as Richard bounced after. It made the man recoil slightly as he focused on Quatre with wide and wary eyes. "How are you?" Quatre continued in a less ecstatic tone. "I wasn't expecting to see you here..."

"Hey, Nick," Jordan greeted him, moving around the desk. "Is something wrong?"

Nicholas had dark brown hair and the lines of his face were almost a mirror of Chai's. His eyes, though, were brown. He studied Jordan a moment longer, then shook his head and shrugged, moving away from the blondes. "I just...was hoping she'd be here."

"She doesn't come down," Jordan reminded him quietly.

The guy nodded, then shook his head.

"Hey," Quatre said in a slightly firm tone.

Nick looked up to him.

"Come here," Quatre instructed, turning on his heel and heading back to his little station.

Nick gave Jordan a confused look, but followed without protest.

Richard pointed at the guy's back curiously.

"Richard, this is Nicholas Benning, Chai's oldest brother. Nick, this is Richard...Baen? You're Baen, aren't you?"

"Winner-Baen," the kid shrugged.

"Oh, all right," Jordan processed that and looked back to Nick. "This is Richard Winner-Baen. He's Quatre's nephew."

Nick nodded politely at the kid before looking back to Quatre, who was pulling out a necklace and magnet set from a drawer, extending it to the man. "Try that on and tell me if you feel anything."

The guy gave him a confused sort of look and latched the thing around his neck...and looked around the room sharply.

"Does it seem like someone turned the volume down?" Quatre asked quietly. "Or that someone put something in your ears?"

The guy nodded, blinking several times as he focused on Jordan. "It's...I..."

"I thought so," Quatre noted, moving around to lean against the desk near the man. "You're an empath. I'll have to get you alone to see how good you are, though. I don't get the same sort of reading from you like I do most other empaths...but at the same time, your sister does something no one else can do."

"This is what she does," he noted, touching the necklace and looking around again.

"You can keep that," Quatre noted, indicating the thing. "Is that why you were here? Has it been too much?"

The guy nodded, raising a hand to the side of his head as he looked back to Jordan.

"Are you all right?" Jordan persisted, moving closer to the man and grabbing his arms as he studied his eyes.

Nick looked away and shook his head hard.

He was coming down.

Jordan stared at him a long moment as he wondered what drug the man had been on, then looked around to Quatre.

Quatre nodded.

"Why don't you come home with me tonight," Jordan suggested quietly. "Chai will be happy to see you...and you can just crash on the floor."

"I don't want to be...to..." the guy blinked hard, shaking his head.

"It's nothing," Jordan reassured him. "You're family."

The guy looked back to his face in disbelief.

"Come on," Jordan added, pulling him gently from the room. "You can lay down in my office. You look dead on your feet."

The guy blinked at him again, but followed him wordlessly.

Jordan really _hated_ lower Angels.

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 3 pm**

It was a shock when it happened.

Richard was kneeling down by a small boy in the lobby when he heard a loud noise...and shouting. It only took him a moment to realize it was _gun_fire, and that was mostly because the little eight year old girl who'd been coloring had jumped from her table and tackled her little brother to the ground.

"Get down!" someone shouted harshly...knocking _him_ to the ground as glass shattered over their heads...but the man who'd knocked him over hadn't stopped on top of him. He'd covered the children with his own body...and Richard gasped in shock as he felt glass cutting into his arms and face.

"Mother _fucker!_" Chance snarled, flying through the lobby with a gun in his hands as he slammed through the front doors. A _breath_ later, Jordan was flying through the same way...before Quatre came pelting out a lower hall, looking to Richard for a long moment in dismay before nodding once at his nephew and flying through the doors.

At the same time, soldiers were appearing from all over the building, all flying toward the various exits with weapons, some with Kevlar vests, some with helmets.

"You all right?" the man who'd knocked him over demanded, the children held tightly in his arms.

"I...I think so," Richard muttered, touching his face where it was hot. He stared at the blood in disbelief before realizing it was _all_ over his hands...and arms...

"Get those kids out of here _now!_" Chance's voice _**exploded**_ from the doors as the man backed through them and glared down at the solider...the man disappeared down the hall with the kids held protectively to him. "_Move!_" he added harshly.

Richard looked up to him in disbelief, feeling something fall from his face and seeing the sparkle of glass before a larger piece hit the floor.

"Move, Richard, _now!_" Quatre shouted, darting into the building and moving to pick his nephew up off the ground and throw him at the stairs. Richard stumbled against the wall and stopped, then ducked hard as something hit the wall above his head. "Get him to _safety!_" Quatre snarled at a passing soldier, indicating Richard.

Richard didn't fight the person when they turned and yanked him toward another hall as the shots continued outside...and it wasn't until he was in the bathroom that he realized he had several gashes on his face. He blinked at that as he realized the spots stung badly, as well as his arms.

"You don't look so good," the solider noted, running the water in a sink and turning to grab a paper-towel from the dispenser. "You comin' out of it yet?"

"Out of it?" Richard repeated blankly.

"Shell shock, baby," the _female_ noted with a grin. "You're not a solider, are you?"

Richard blinked at her as she started dabbing carefully at his face.

"You'll be all right," the girl reassured him, smiling brightly at him. "This is just one of the mafia groups who have it in for Breer. Evidently, our station in his land takes the would-be-loyal followers from their lands away, meaning the other gangs are losing strength."

Richard nodded, blinking as she made one of the wounds sting hard.

"This one will bleed a bit more," she added, indicating a larger gash on his cheek since the others on his face had all but stopped bleeding. "Clean up your arms, huh?" she turned and washed her hand in the still running water, then winked at him a disappeared from the room.

She'd had a gun.

Richard blinked after her in disbelief before looking down to his arms.

The building had been _shot_ at.

He started cleaning his arms even more as the shots and shouting continued. It didn't take him too long to get those wounds wiped down, and then he realized that there was no way he could hold enough paper-towels to all the larger cuts and frowned as he pressed one to his face and started back into the hall hesitantly. It took him several minutes to figure out which way he'd even _come_ from, and as he neared the end of the hall, he glanced around it to see his uncle standing on one side of the main entrance and Chance on the other. Up the wall a ways was Jordan, and there were a _shit_ load of soldiers crouched on the floor and moving to the windows...to shoot _out_ the windows.

Quatre nodded, and a handful of the men instantly darted from the building, shooting the entire time as shouts of alarm came from outside.

"You look a little mussed, there, rich-boy!" Jordan called from where he was standing. "You stay back, huh?"

Richard nodded.

"You alive, nephew?"

"I think so," Richard returned. "I'm bleeding."

"You'll be all right," Chance reassured him. "Just stay back."

"I'm not moving."

"Ready?" Quatre added.

"Let's play blazing guns," Jordan suggested.

"Are you _mad_?" Chance demanded, turning to look at him.

"You be my god?" Jordan wheedled in an almost cute voice. "You be my moon?"

"Worship me," Chance agreed almost resignedly. "I'll be your sun."

"Ready?" Quatre asked in amusement.

"Let's get it over with," Chance agreed...and they moved.

Richard slid down the wall, leaning against it as the shouting re-doubled...as well as the shots. He stared at the door as the soldiers who'd run out at Quatre's nod moved back in, then listened as the shouting turned slightly panicked...

Something _**exploded**_.

The teen could _hear_ the very evil sounding laughter of his uncle, Jordan, and Chance.

"Was that the car?" someone on the floor asked nervously.

"I think it was," someone else agreed. "Listen to them laugh...it must have been an accident."

"Why do you say that?" someone else asked.

"I've been working around them for a few years now," the other replied. "They're insane as hell, but they're damn good at what they do. Blazing guns," he tsked irritably. "I swear they should have been cowboys."

That got a nervous titter.

"Why do you think it was an accident?" the other repeated.

"Because that's the 'it's fucked up' laugh," the guy explained as the shooting started to subside. "They only laugh like that when they didn't do it or they didn't mean to do it."

"Does this happen often?" Richard asked.

"Never, that I know of," the guy returned. "It's been threatened before, though. I wonder who had the balls to try it."

"Does it really matter?"

"Not as long as the civilians are safe," another voice noted.

"That's my call, too," the main speaker agreed. "You okay back there, blondie? You're not losing too much blood are you?"

"I don't know... How much is too much?"

"I'd say any was," a female noted. "I know at certain times of the month I think that."

That got a lot of laughter.

"I have...some big ones on my arms," Richard noted when that had subsided. "I can't...hold anything on them."

"Sweet, the Winner kid is going to bleed to death!" someone else said happily. "Great reputation for the Rest, huh?"

That got more laughter, but someone had moved around to Richard.

"Oh, _**shit!**_" Jordan's voice was too amused...as something _else_ exploded.

The building _shook_.

"Whoa," someone muttered. "What was that?"

"Hopefully just a car," the main speaker said through gritted teeth. "If it's not, it could get _bad_."

"You're all right," the man noted to Richard as he studied the wounds. "A few stitches and some Remalene and you'll be healed in a few days."

"Can you help me stop the bleeding?" Richard returned, shifting so more of the wounds became evident.

"Damn, what happened to you?"

Richard pointed toward the window he'd been near.

They flinched enmasse at that, focusing back on the door.

Quatre slid into it and made a series of obscure gestures that really reminded Richard of sign language...and all the men that were in the lobby darted out the doors...in rank.

"Sir?" the man beside Richard asked nervously. He was holding a press to Richard's arm.

"What do you say, nephew?" Quatre asked, moving to him quickly. "You want scars or not?"

"What?" Richard asked blankly.

"Some day some girl...or guy...will ask you where you got'em," the guy explained, grinning wickedly at him. "You can explain you were here and it'll be all sorts of impressive...unless you wanna be a pretty boy."

Quatre laughed and smacked him, which made him grin and dart out the doors after the others.

Richard realized he was shaking, focusing on his hand in disbelief.

"You're all right," Quatre reassured him gently, moving across the room and into the main office area, digging into a cupboard and pulling out a small box. "If you want the scars I can stitch you up here," he added, moving back around to the teen. "If not, it's an hour's drive to the base and I can wrap them tight," he showed the box.

"What do you think my mom would say?" Richard asked, swallowing nervously. Neither idea appealed particularly to him.

"I think she'd let you decide," Quatre reassured him. "This wasn't your fault."

"Um...but...I was in shock and stuff," Richard noted, blinking at him.

"Then no?" Quatre offered, pulling out a gauze pad. "You might have little scars from these bigger wounds, but the smaller ones will probably be gone by morning."

"How?"

"Remalene, my dear kinsmen," Quatre returned, pressing gauze to one of the larger wounds and wrapping tape around it tightly. "We'll get you back to base and they'll run you a quick intensive, then give you the pills. You'll probably sleep for the rest of the night after that...but hey, you have a story to tell your friends back home."

Richard grinned, appreciating that in spite of himself.

Quatre winked, moving onto another wound. "I think those windows are going to magically become bullet-proof," he noted. "And I'm sure there will be all sorts of people pissed that we blew that truck."

"A truck?" Richard asked, giving him a wide-eyed look.

Quatre flashed him a wicked grin, moving on to the next wound. "The thing about blazing-guns is that you don't really have enough time to think out the full reaction of shooting the big metal thing...it's all right, though. Now the Rest will make the news again and we'll start getting a _lot_ more support...maybe even more officers for the local precinct," he waggled his eyebrows slightly. "And adding your name to the list," he winked. "My dear nephew...even though you probably hurt like hell right now...your presence is gonna generate all _sorts_ of publicity." He studied his nephew's face with shining eyes. "Just play down the shell-shock, huh? It's more impressive that way."


	35. 35

- 35 -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 4 pm**

Quatre ran a tired hand through his hair as he paced outside the room Richard was laying in. He was sick to his stomach, really. He just knew Kiley was going to absolutely freak out on him for getting her son wounded...

"Quatre?" she asked in a quiet and bothered voice. "I'm in a..."

"Richard is hurt," Quatre returned promptly, which made her fall silent. "We were at the Rest...at the mission in lower Angels," he added. "He was in the lobby when one of the local gangs started shooting."

"Is he...all right?" she asked, her tone scared.

"He's wounded," Quatre noted, running his hand through his hair. "He was up and walking around with me, and he's talking and everything just fine...but he has...lacerations...on his face and arms."

She didn't say anything.

Quatre pressed a hand down over his eyes, stopping. "He's being run through intensive right now."

"What?" she asked blankly. "What's intensive?"

"They're testing his blood to make sure he doesn't have anything that could explode by accelerating his cell growth."

"Oh...Remalene?" she seemed a bit more at ease. "Let's go, Carl," she added quietly, starting to move around.

"Kiley?" Quatre asked nervously.

"Yeah?"

"Are...are you mad at me?"

She fell quiet a moment as Quatre berated himself for asking. He _hated_ the uncertainty it suggested.

"I don't have the full details yet," she noted finally. "Until I hear the story I won't know if this truly was your fault or just a fluke. I'm going to call Richard now, all right?"

"All right," Quatre agreed quietly...as the call was ended. The blond ran his fingers through his hair again, swallowing. He also hated that he didn't have enough of a connection with her to really read her emotions. It was almost like he had his necklace on...which he probably needed to put on, actually. He could feel that the people around him were nervous...not that having it on would make them _not_ nervous, but he wouldn't have to feel it anymore.

He sighed, pulling the thing out. He was sure to make something of a show of putting it on, wondering if maybe it _would_ help.

"Hey, Cat," Jordan muttered, moving happily into the lobby. He was still in the clothing he'd been wearing at the rest, and he still had that 'we won a fight' look on his face as he moved and dropped in a chair across from his friend. "What's going on?"

Quatre gestured vaguely toward the room his nephew was in and started to pace.

"Hey, calm down," Jordan muttered, rising to his feet quickly to pull his friend back to him in a pseudo-hug, then use that control to force the guy into the seat next to him. "Everything is fine. Tomorrow he'll have a few small wounds and a nifty story to tell all his buddies. You didn't make a mistake on this one, huh?"

"I did," Quatre returned, running his hands down his face. "We knew that the gangs were getting riled up, I never should have..."

"Cat," Jordan cut him off, "I rile the gangs if I give them a questioning look. It's a rare time when they actually have the balls to do anything, and a drive-by is just pussy-work. This could have happened at any given time and there was no way you knew it'd happen while we were even _there_. Stop blaming yourself."

"You say that like it's so easy," Quatre retorted irritably, leaning forward so his elbows were against his knees. "You don't know what I feel..."

"Guilty, scared," Jordan studied his expression with interest. "Alone, because it's your fault and no one knows how it is from your side. Terrified that something might be wrong with you because you did it all so easily..." he shook his head.

Quatre looked up to his face sharply.

"You have to remember that we all live inside our own heads," Jordan reminded him quietly. "We've all done things that we're just sure we shouldn't have and things have happened to all of us that we're damn sure we could have avoided...if. _If_ you live in a world of ifs then nothing is right. There's always one more thing...if."

"That doesn't help," Quatre half accused, looking to his hands. He had his fingertips pressed together with his elbows still on his knees. "I took my nephew..."

"We all took him," Jor reminded him. "We were all there with him, and we were all okay with him being there."

Quatre blinked at him, startled.

"It's _our_ bad," Jordan pressed quietly, studying the other's eyes intently. "_We_ all had the over-sight and _we_ all kept him safe."

The blond settled back some, thinking hard about that one, reaching for his necklace almost unconsciously.

Jordan smiled and pulled the hand away before he could start to unlatch it. "Try it my way for once," he suggested. "Try the fact that you know me so well and you understand me...leave the necklace on."

Quatre met his eyes, blinking again.

Jordan flashed him a smile, then tousled his hair affectionately and bounced up from his seat...and shoved his way just as happily into the room Richard was laying in. "Hey, civilian!"

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 5 pm**

Quatre was standing completely straight when Kiley and Carl moved hurriedly into the lounge area, watching his sister with worried eyes. Kiley moved to him instantly, pulling him into a hug, then looked beyond him as he indicated the room her son was laying in.

She disappeared.

Quatre turned back to Carl, waiting for the blow he knew was coming...for the fight he knew he was about to...

Carl hugged him hard, just once, then followed his wife.

. . .Quatre was stunned.

He stood uncertainly for a moment, then turned and moved into the room in confusion.

"I'm all right," Richard was reassuring his father quietly with a cheesy sort of grin. "Uncle Quatre made sure I was all right...I was just shocked, because I'd never heard gunshots before...the cuts hurt at first," he added, then touched his forehead. "It was bleeding and stuff at first, but...I'm all right," he looked from one parent to the next, then back to Quatre.

"We _know_ you're all right," Carl noted, moving forward to sit beside his son on the bed. "We knew you were all right to begin with, but we're upset...huh? It's...I mean, shit, it wasn't your uncle's fault, so you don't have to defend him."

Quatre was taken aback again, looking to Kiley. She, however, had moved up to her son's other side and was carefully brushing his hair back from the bandages.

"And you," Carl added, turning back to look at Quatre with a slight smile. "I know you feel guilty about this, but it's _not_ your fault. Or did you call those gangsters in?"

"Of course not," Quatre muttered with a frown, moving closer as he looked between the parents. "I just...he was with me, and...well..."

"I'm sure you have Ainslie going on in your head about how he was _shot_ and you're a soldier and all that bullshit, don't you?" Kiley half accused, focusing on him sharply. "Ainslie is a bitch, short sighted, and closed minded. I'm sure if one of the babies turned up homosexual she'd scream for _them_ to be disowned for deviance." She rested her fists on her hips as she surveyed her little brother. "That really _was_ your problem, wasn't it? Ainslie and Karen and them...that's why you were always such an asshole, wasn't it?"

Richard made a sniggering sort of noise. "I think he's an asshole anyway."

"Richard!" Kiley protested.

"You just wish you could be like me," Quatre informed the boy at the same time, before he thought about it.

"A conceited pretty boy?" Richard demanded, still amused. "Hardly. I think you broke a nail, Uncle. Mom should have her fingernail clippers..." and he started laughing since Quatre had looked to his hand before he could help it.

Carl rubbed a hand over his mouth, meeting his son's eyes.

Quatre laughed and smacked the boy's foot, pressing his nails into his palms. He didn't want to admit it, but if he _had_ broken one...

Kiley let out a resigned sort of sigh, moving around the bed to wrap her arms around Quatre's shoulders. "Even if this had been your fault," she noted, pushing the hair from _his_ eyes, "it would be forgivable. Everyone makes mistakes, little brother...and your family should be the first ones to get over it."

It took him a moment, but Quatre conceded to her point, and gave into her hug. She had a pleasant and familiar smell...one that instantly reminded him of his childhood, of brief happy moments...

He pulled away to look at her.

"What?" she asked blankly.

"You used to hug me," he noted, studying her eyes intently. "When I was little...you smell like that."

Kiley blinked at that, then shook her head slightly in confusion...which upset him since he didn't know why her smell...

"...of course I hugged you when you were little, when you'd have anything to do with me."

Her casual words cut off his self-doubt.

She smiled slightly, shaking her head at him. "When you were tired you'd come with me...or when you first got up, but other than that you were too good for me."

Quatre started to grin at her.

She tousled his hair affectionately, looking to her son and husband. "You're right, Richard...he always _has_ been an ass."

Quatre started laughing at that, quietly...then a little harder. He turned away from both of them, running a hand down his face.

"So," Kiley added, kicking him with the side of her foot. "You're the big general..."

"Not quite a general," Quatre retorted, turning back to give her a look.

"The only reason you're not is because you haven't said you wanted to be yet," she retorted. "So, Mr. General...how long's he in for?" she gestured at the bed.

"He signed up for a term, boot camp starts next week...it's four years."

Kiley looked mildly upset at that.

"Oh ha _ha_," Richard retorted. "_Like_ I'd join..."

Quatre started laughing, flashing his sister an evil grin and ducking around her. "I just wanted to see what she'd say!"

...and she smacked at him, but he was much too quick.

Carl laughed a little bit as she focused on him. He was grinning happily. "It's _your_ family."

- -

**February 8, A.C. 205. Base. 9 pm**

"I hope you're happy."

Quatre stopped completely at the voice over his phone. "What? Who is this?"

"It's Ainslie," she snapped in her angered tone. "I hope you're happy. Now you've gone and gotten your nephew shot up and in the hospital..."

The guilt and anger exploded in Quatre's stomach. "It wasn't my fault!" he shouted.

Jordan jumped, turning to look at him from where he'd been sitting inside Duty's hut.

"Then whose fault is it?" Ainslie asked bitterly. "Certainly not Richard's..."

"Do you even know what happened?" Quatre asked, the fear that she might be right changing instantly to true anger. "Did you even bother asking, or did you just hear that he was with me and figure the rest for yourself?"

"There's not much else to..."

"It was an _attack_ on the building," Quatre retorted, his ire rising more. "There was no warning!"

"Then your little friend there in intelligence isn't doing his job, is he?"

Quatre guffawed in complete disbelief, staring at the phone in disgust...and closed it.

"What the fuck does she think?" Jordan snapped irritably, moving around to join him...

Though Quatre had been expecting it since Richard had been shot. He'd actually been expecting it from Kiley.

But it _wasn't_ his fault.

"Thank you, very much," a reporter muttered, finishing her interview with Carl. "We appreciate hearing from you."

"I'm just happy my son is safe," Carl reassured her. "If he hadn't been with his uncle..." he gestured vaguely at Quatre, though they were both out of immediate sight.

The reporter moved on with her closing statements as Carl and Kiley moved back to the guard hut, then inside the cramped space.

"You know, this really isn't big enough for four," Duty noted, staying against the wall.

"It's just until they leave," Carl muttered. "We had to make an exit, and people look foolish wandering behind camera."

"You could have just went around the hut."

"But that would look foolish."

Duty gave Quatre a look.

Quatre forced a smile at him and shook his head.

"What?"

"Ainslie called," Jordan noted darkly, scooting his chair around so Quatre could stand directly beside him. "She was trying to say it was his fault."

"Of course she was," Kiley noted dryly rolling her eyes. "Everything has to be the fault of someone she knows."

Quatre sighed, shaking his head and looking away.

"Don't let her get you down," Kiley suggested as the reporter stopped talking. After a moment, they could hear the sounds of readying to leave.

It had been a long evening. It had taken about twenty more minutes for the doctors to release Richard after his parents had shown up...and it had taken about ten minutes after that for Quatre to get the call that the news crews were queued in the drive, and could he please come down and make them shut up before Duty went all army on their asses...or something like that.

And this had turned into interviews with specific stations and repeat live performances.

"Here, let me by," Eastland muttered, moving through the group to step from the building. He watched the road a long moment, then sighed and nodded, gesturing for them.

"Sorry about that," Quatre added, moving out after him. "I know that's not the most pleasant of circumstances. You want me to get you anything?"

"No," the man denied easily. "That wasn't any more fun for you than for me, so there's no overlap."

Quatre grinned at that, offering his hand.

"Should we call him?" Kiley asked, moving up to grab Quatre's arm and look up at him. "Do you think we should..."

"He should be sleeping right about now," Jordan noted, looking to his watch. "I doubt calling him would do anything but upset Chai. She doesn't answer other people's phones."

"Are you sure?" she fussed, turning back to him.

"I got shot a year ago and the first night I was dead to the world," Jordan reassured her. "My dosage was a bit less than his, too. Trust me, he's completely out."

She looked like she didn't want to agree with him, but finally did. She moved back to her husband's arms, then looked around to Duty and smiled at him.

"See, that makes everything worth it," he noted, winking at her as he patted Carl on the back. "Damn gorgeous wife you got there, man. If I ever hear you've mistreated her, I'll hunt you down with a butcher knife."

"I'm touched," Carl noted dryly, moving toward Jordan's waiting car.

Duty made an amused noise, nodding respectfully to Quatre, then watched as the group of them climbed into the car. He stood there until the vehicle had disappeared, then leaned back against the entrance of his little booth.

Truth be told, he'd thoroughly enjoyed that. He liked the former pilots, respected them. Having them respect him was rather pleasant.

He just wasn't going to admit it to anyone else.

- -

**February 9, A.C. 205. Base. 9 am**

"He's in a great mood," Jordan noted dryly to Danielle when he'd judged his friend to be far enough out of earshot not to hear.

"His nephew got shot," Danielle reminded him. "You can't expect him to be happy about that."

"No, but I'd hope he wasn't so pissy," Jordan returned, pushing into his office. "He was all freaking out at first," he noted, moving aside so she could follow. "I got him calmed down about that and he was fine…even when his sister got in he was fine…then the bitch called…"

"Ainslie, right?" Danielle asked, considering it as she dropped her stuff on the edge of his desk.

"Yeah," Jordan agreed darkly, moving around the thing to set his own stuff down. "Then Karen called, and a few other ones…they're all trying to say it's his fault."

"And you expect him to be morning cheer?" Danielle gave her superior a severely blank look.

"Haha," Jor retorted, throwing a legal pad at her. "I need the full file of Colonel Stanley Turrell…I'm using my stars to get it because they're trying to play me false. Be proper, little girl," he dropped into his seat. "I also need the estimate on the Rest, get that first…and then you'll need to give these to Une," he shoved a pile at her. "Be back in an hour, and throw a fit if they try to deny me that file…put them under arrest under the mission header, too."

Danielle raised her eyebrows at him.

"Obstruction of justice or something," he noted, taking the legal pad since she hadn't touched it. He scribbled the order for the file down and signed it before sliding it back to her, then shook his head. "Go."

She saluted briefly, grabbing up the various papers he'd shoved at her, then disappeared from the room.

Jordan rubbed his temple briefly as he shook his head, then sat back to organize the rest of his work.

Riley was in China setting up her safety net, Raul was getting ready to go to China himself, and Mouthy was probably getting laid. Judas was playing double agent in…Europe, anyway…and this left him without anything to do but wait. It didn't help him that Richard had gotten only part of the file when he was playing errand boyit wasn't actually Richard's faultand Chai was scared she was pregnant.

Her being scared made it a lot less exciting.

Adding to this that the press was going to come hop on them all again for follow-ups, or that Quatre's sisters were a bunch of damn bitches…at least, part of them were…and it didn't leave much room for happiness.

His cell started vibrating.

"Talk to me," he ordered as he noted Judas' name on the caller I.D.

"Victor King, forty-five year old arms king," he hesitated a very brief moment. "Dead as of four-zero-five P.M. on Thursday, February tenth."

"Good job!" Jordan congratulated him dryly.

"He pulled a weapon on Alek," Judas retorted irritably.

"My hands are clean," Jordan noted, studying his nails. "Are yours?"

"Something about gloves as the man's own weapon," Judas agreed, sounding even more pissed than before. "I walked away from the assholes."

"You're awfully riled."

"He was trying to force me to join him…" he trailed off.

"What?" Jordan asked, tilting his head.

"Nothing," Judas muttered, then sighed. "I need to get back."

"All right," Jordan agreed. "You think you'll need support? Mentally?"

"No, it will be fine," Judas reassured him. "I just wanted you to know."

"Watch your ass," Jordan suggested. "Keep contact times."

"Sir," Judas returned, and the call ended.

Jordan sat back, ending the call and clearing it as he studied the wallpaper his wife had picked for him, then shook his head and closed his phone.

There wasn't much else to say.

- -

E/N: Thanks for the review, Race! I hope everyone is enjoying this, and I will really try to get with the writing more. I feel bad about updating daily for so long and then it's a week or more between chapters...sorry, all!


	36. 36

-36-

**February 10, A.C. 205. Prague, Czech Republic. 4:10 pm**

"Who...was that?" Aleksander demanded, staring into Judas' face.

"No one," Judas returned, tucking the phone away as he studied his friend.

"You were speaking English...fluently," the man noted.

"What did you hear?" Judas returned.

"You reported the time you killed him," Alek returned, still staring into Judas' face.

Judas crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows.

"You were only speaking English."

The other studied him with interest a long moment, then shook his head. "You don't want to get involved."

The words seemed to be a release, which triggered Alek crossing his own arms and looking away to the ground.

"Just pretend you never heard it," Judas suggested. "It'll be a lot less complicated that way."

"I don't understand," Alek protested, looking up to him again.

"You don't need to," Judas informed him pointedly. "I don't want to kill you."

The words hung heavily in the air as the German male stared at him in confusion, then laughed.

Judas smirked himself and shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Come on, already."

"Dead?"

"Hm?" Judas turned back to him, studying his expression with interest.

Alek studied him a long moment, then leaned against the wall, looking away. "You're...you're not going to get us killed, are you?" he asked, looking back to his friend's face. "Victor has a family and Kiel has his girl..."

Judas stopped, meeting his eyes again.

Alek looked away.

"Let's go," Judas ordered quietly. "Nothing happened here."

- -

**February 9, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

"Sorry," Danielle muttered, sliding into the seat next to Jordan as he sat with Chance in the Canteen. "I tried damn hard to get this on time and stuff," she set a file in front of him.

Jordan studied that a moment, then looked up at the girl in amazement.

"I sat there and threw about ten fits before threatening to arrest them...and that just made them all disappear for 'authorization'," she made air-quotes, then smiled sweetly at him. "So I just...took it."

Chance started laughing wickedly.

"I left your orders there in the spot," she added happily. "I'm relying on you from keeping me out of trouble, Lieutenant General Maxwell."

Jordan wanted to respond to the implied humor, but something about the file in front of him was interrupting that. He reached his arm around her and pulled her to him in a sort of hug, then, still holding her, opened the page.

"Jordan," Chance snapped irritably, closing it quickly. "If that's his full file that means that _no_ one is supposed to see it at all...including me. This one could explode, don't pull us all down with you."

Jordan blinked at his friend a moment...and the seriousness in the other's face made him actually _realize_ what Danielle had done. He looked back to the folder a long moment, then took it and scooped it neatly into his briefcase.

"You have that authority," Danielle reminded them both, looking between them. "There are about ten people with any rank above you. You can get these files like this."

"With the permission of Une," Chance noted, raising an eyebrow. "On top of that, I'm the leader of the officer's club, so I actually have to think about these things."

Danielle sighed and folded forward. "I couldn't arrest them. They were all throwing logic at me. I started the recital and they kept cutting me off and scurried to find Une. I'd exceeded my hour limit, so I just...did it. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Jordan reassured her, snapping the briefcase securely. "I don't think Une will have my head for this."

"Might take your balls, though," Chance noted dryly, looking back to his cup. "I hope your girl's pregnant, Duo, because you might damn well get screwed."

"Don't call me that," Jordan returned. "You know what my name is, Heero, and it's _not_ Duo."

Chance smirked at that and took another drink before looking back to his watch. "I have to go gather Cat's team. I'll get back to you guy's later. Be careful with that file," he added, pointing at Jordan pointedly.

"I know," Jordan reassured him, then watched him walk away and looked back to his girl.

"Should I not have?"

"Its fine," Jordan reassured her quietly, rubbing her back again. "You got those files delivered, right?"

"Yeah, and put Une's load in with your stuff. What else are we doing today?"

"I'm gonna go gather those up and go home," he noted, kissing her forehead. "I'll call you if I need you, all right? I'll probably end up at the Rest here in an hour or two anyway. We need to get those windows replaced."

"All right," she muttered, sliding out and stepping aside for him. "Call me when you're getting ready so I can be ready, too."

"It's the rest," he reminded her, smiling gently. "You're not required to go just because I'm there."

She smiled slightly at that, watching as he started away. "Just let me know, huh, Maxwell?"

He turned to look at her, realizing she was saluting him and returned the respect before starting from the room.

He had some _good_ people.

Hopefully he'd trained them well enough that they wouldn't die in the course of their duties. That'd be heartbreaking.

- -

**February 9, A.C. 205. Base. 1 pm**

"You awake yet?" Chai asked sweetly, moving into her bedroom to study her brother happily.

"You have no idea how nice it is to wake up to you," Nick returned, studying her. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Of course not," she retorted, sliding up next to him on the mattress. "Jor would have chased you off if you were an issue, not into the room."

He smiled slightly at that.

"I'm gonna go check on Richard," Chai added, touching his hair affectionately. "You should probably get up and eat, though."

"Food is for pussies," Nick retorted, curling in a ball the opposite direction.

"So is sleep," Chai retorted, kicking the bed as she started away. "Go shower your stinky ass and borrow something of Jor's so I can wash your shit. What are you even on?"

"Nothing, now," he noted, curling even more into his ball. "I ran out of money."

"If you were coming to ask me for money, I'm going to be pissed at you," she noted, stopping in the door to the room. "You understand that, don't you?"

"No shit?" he gave her an irritated look over his shoulder. "I wanted you to make it all stop...thanks."

"I'm not doing anything," she pointed out. "Quatre gave you a necklace."

He stopped, turning to look at her again.

"You remember that, don't you? Quatre says you're an empath."

Nick stared at her, trying to remember the previous day.

She made a disgusted noise and gestured at him. "I have chocolate, we'll get you laid. You're not addicted to anything, are you?"

"Like I paid enough attention to tell the difference," he retorted, dropping back onto the pillow. "Chia?"

Chai stopped again, turning to look at him.

"Am I...really?"

She smiled slightly at that, then nodded.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Get up," she repeated her order, then slid from her bedroom to go check on Richard.

- -

**February 10, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 6 am**

Xane jumped hard, moving across the bed for his weapons as his mind noted it was an alarm. He stopped at the foot of the bed, looking around as he tried to catch his breath and Chao blinked at him in confusion.

"You okay?" the blond asked blankly, sitting up and looking at the face of his phone. "Fuck..."

"What the hell?" Xane demanded, blinking at the male in confusion as his heart started to settle again.

"Jumpy much?" Chao teased, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed with that smile that no one else got to see. "You don't work today, remember?"

"That would be why I'm not getting dressed," Xane retorted, settling to sit properly and frown at the male. He wasn't intending to inform the guy that if his mind hadn't placed the sound he'd have been fairly well armed in about three seconds. "What's that on for?"

"I have to go make sure everything is running smoothly across the river," Chao explained, standing slowly and yawning. He hesitated a moment, then looked back to Xane. "You gonna be okay without me?"

"I'll die every minute you're away," Xane retorted, moving to drop back into the mattress. "Or something."

"You're mean to me," Chao noted happily, moving into the bathroom. "You know that, don't you?"

"You like it, or I wouldn't be here," Xane retorted.

"I don't just like it," Chao muttered, moving back to straddle him and start kissing at him. "I thrive with it."

Xane sniggered, relaxing back into the mattress, accepting those kisses.

It took until they'd finished and Chao had showered for Xane to remember why he felt so melancholy. Life with Chao was sweet and pleasant, easy. He didn't have to worry about anything and could chase those pleasures from moment to moment without worrying about bills or gas money. He didn't even have to keep in contact with his family...but it had been a week already. That meant there was only a week left.

He exchanged a goodbye kiss with the blond, then watched him leave the room; he had a bounce in his step, and was probably going to have a very good day...

It was sad.

Xane rolled onto his back and focused on the ceiling. Over the remaining week he needed to convince the guy that it was okay for him to leave, somehow...and then he'd have to go back to his life as a spy...back to the base where he'd broken up with the man he'd been with for years...back to being the second of a hero and manipulating everyone around him.

The thing that really bothered him, though, was how attached he really was to Chaoxiang. Chao was probably one of the evilest men he'd ever met, but when it was just the two of them...

He sighed and rolled out of the bed, heading for the shower.

It was better not to dwell over the spilled milk, just clean it up and keep it from stinking.

- -

**February 10, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 9 am**

Riley watched a blond man moving to the front of a high-rise apartment building, smiling happily as he went. He had his hands in his pockets, and his smile was winning...and if what Jordan had said was true, and she had no reason to doubt it, that was Xane's boyfriend.

She considered the man's blond hair in confusion as she ran his stats over in her mind. His parents both had very authentic Chinese names, and his own did not give one the impression that he was a natural blond. Jor had noted that to her, of course, but she'd thought it was a bleach job or something...but not by looking at him.

Interesting.

She looked back to the building, wondering if Xane could tell she was there or not. She'd gathered from Quatre that he could sense people he had connections with, but he was an empath. Xane wasn't, but it was interesting to wonder...

She smiled almost coyly as the man met her eyesand smirked. He looked her over from head to foot, then gestured with his head toward the building in question.

Riley flashed him a grin, then turned with a wave of her hair and started off down the sidewalk.

His laughter, which followed after her happily, was pleased and slightly naughty.

Xane probably had a damn lot of fun with him.

She turned a corner, and started back for her hotel.

- -

**February 9, A.C. 205. Base. 7pm**

Jordan sighed as he sat heavily on the couch with his plate of steaming hot food, happy to be _home_ again. The run-around of figuring out the windows and bits of facing had been annoying enough without the media pouncing on them again since the Winner Corporation was financing the rebuild.

"I bet I'm more tired than you with less reason," Richard muttered happily from where he was sitting in an armchair.

"And you're proud of that?" Jordan asked happily, smiling briefly at him.

"Not really, but it seemed like something to say," the kid shrugged, taking another bite. "It's weird. I'm absolutely starving, but having a hard time keeping awake."

"It's your dose," Jordan reassured him. "You're taking a little more than normal so your body wants you to sleep so it can do what it's being prodded to...but it's also using the resources you had...it's one of the fun side-effects of Remalene."

"Mm," Richard took another bite, chewing it slowly as he sighed. "It tastes good, does that count?"

"My wife figured out how to cook," Jordan reassured him.

"One of the downfalls of being rich," Nick noted, "is that your maid probably doesn't love you as much as say...your mom...or sister...or wife."

That made Richard stop and focus on him in confusion.

"I'm just saying," Nick noted, he was sitting in the far corner of the couch. "Chai doesn't cook much, but she's good at what she does."

"My mom cooks for us," Richard protested. He was too tired to just let the comment pass. "She's cooked for us always."

Nick blinked at him.

"Just because we have money doesn't mean we waste it," Quatre spat irritably at the man instead, rising to his feet and moving toward the kitchen. "Don't worry, though, I'd have hired a maid if I didn't have someone to cook for me...I'm the family patriarch and I can throw the money like that."

"Maybe you should throw it at a cause," Nick retorted.

"Because I'm _not_ financing the Rest," Quatre agreed bitterly. "I _don't_ have college funds set up for the poor folk, and I sure as hell don't have a fucking orphanage set up anywhere, right? Jesus..."

He'd disappeared as he spoke, and Jor could hear Chai talking quietly to him in the kitchen.

"You believe that shit?" Nick half muttered to Jordan, rolling his eyes as he focused on eating.

"Yes," Jordan returned, nonplussed. "If you're going to bitch about rich verses poor, then aim it at me and your sister."

The guy stopped and met his eyes.

"_I_ have the money that I'm wasting," Jordan explained, still giving him a calm look. "_I_ am the one who'd hire the maid and I'm not putting that much into the Rest. Don't be an ass, get a fucking job."

Nick gave him a normal sort of 'fuck you' look and went back to eating.

Jordan looked back to Richard, who hadn't gone back to his food, then smiled slightly at him and rolled his eyes.

It was a common complaint in Lower Angels, because it was never their own fault they were there. The people of the slums wanted someone to reach in and pick them out because they were more special than anyone else down there and they deserved it. It didn't matter that they could go to help programs aside from the Rest...not that Jordan was going to go into it. He'd utterly refused to go to those programs for more than his own hiding. They wanted you to show up once every six months to prove that you were still as poor as you were when you started, and if you missed it, they all but pissed on you and dismissed you as just another loser...not like you were more than some loser when you were _getting_ their help.

He sincerely hoped that the people running the Rest never got to that point...but instead of just sitting there with the money under a pillow and doling out the bills one at a time, the people of the Rest were going out and _doing_ things...like fixing insulation and bad windows. They were checking pipes and adding insulation to those...there'd even been a few cases where they'd just outright replaced a floor. All it took to get the buildings looked at was a handful of people from them coming in and asking for it. Sure, it wasn't the fastest system in the world, but they were _really_ helping those buildings that they did help...

"Should I go somewhere else?" Richard asked Jordan uncertainly, glancing at Nick without actually looking at him.

"No," Jordan returned easily. "Nick had his bitch-fit and he'll eat contentedly now. He just had to get that _one_ jibe in and piss off the man who wants to help him the most...no worries for you."

Nick, however, had looked around to Jordan.

"Oh, you forget already?" Jordan asked sweetly, meeting his eyes. "You remember coming into my building and my friend giving you a necklace that does what Chai does for you? Hmm, lay off the drugs a while, huh? I think it's fucking with your head."

"Jordan," Chai snapped from the kitchen.

Jordan went back to eating. He and Nick got along fine until they came to differences of opinion. When it was something they didn't agree on, neither could get past it. They both left it to Chai to stop their sniping at one another...for all that Nick did have a sort of lost look on his face.

He'd probably just been reacting to the annoyance Jordan was putting out, as an empath. He may not have felt as seriously about the subjects as it seemed, so that loop of Jordan's annoyance creating an upset response probably...well...it could explain why they got along so well most of the time.

"I don't get you," Nick muttered, studying Jordan with interest. "You're so nice to me, then you turn around and be a dick."

"I had a damn long day at work, and you annoyed me." Jordan shrugged complacently. "Just remember that Quatre wants to help you and stop complaining about the state of your wallet compared to his...and don't pick at the kid."

"It's not my fault he doesn't get good food," Nick noted, going back to his plate.

"I'm sure he gets perfectly fine food, but he's a little drugged right now."

Nick started to open his mouth.

"Are you two _really_ going to start this bullshit?" Chai demanded, moving into the living room with her hands on her hips.

"Of course not," Jordan reassured her placatingly as he looked to his brother-in-law. "Are we?"

"Us? Never," Nick flashed him a grin and went back to eating.

Jordan smiled at his wife.

"If you annoy me you're sleeping on the couch tonight," she reminded him pointedly.

He dropped the jackass-manner and gave her a tired look, focusing back on his food.

She sighed and moved around to touch his face affectionately, then kiss him. "We've all had a long day, let's just...finish eating and stop talking to each other."

He smiled slightly at that and kissed her back, then went back to his _very_ good supper.

- -

E/N: Oioioi, sorry about that wait, guys. I'll try to be better.


	37. 37

— 37 —

**February 11, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 2 pm**

Xane stood behind Chao with vague interest, wondering about who would be named 'Juan Tsai'. The guy was bringing two people with him, but their names hadn't been passed over, so it was going to be an introduction thing. Chao had noted that he and Juan were old friends, so that was why Xane had been brought along…

Xane was bored, and not looking forward to meeting whatever jackass it was coming off his own little private plane.

"I told you I could fly it!" an oriental man crowed as he bounced from the machine. "You never believed me!"

"I still don't think you did it," Chao retorted happily, watching the guy move down the stairs. "You just sat there and let the co-pilot do the dirty work."

"You're an asshole," the guy informed Chao happily, almost breezing into his arms.

Chao didn't return the offered kiss, though he did hug the guy.

The man blinked at him in confusion.

"This is Chris Torwin," Chao noted, indicating Xane. "He's my boyfriend."

The man's expression changed from confused to angry in a heartbeat, then settled back into a cheerful apathy that was a bit too feigned. "Hi, Chris. I'm Juan Tsai."

Xane shook his hand easily, staring directly back into his eyes as he realized he was going to have a little more fun than he thought…but then his attention was pulled to the plane itself…and Raul.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Xane forced quickly, being careful not to let the slip be known.

"Not if you knew what your man has done to me," he whispered in English.

"What?" Chao asked blankly. "Don't do that, Juan…"

"No worries," Xane consoled just as quietly. "I'm sure he does it to me every night."

The guy's cheeks flushed very slightly as Xane smiled sweetly around and indicated Raul and David Shire. "Who are these?"

Juan gave Chao a dirty look, then turned back to the pair of them. "You should know David," he snapped. "This is Kodiak Dervan."

Raul's eyes were smirking as he offered his hand to Xane. "Hello…"

"I'm Chris Torwin," Xane informed him in return. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm sorry," Raul said hesitantly in Chinese. "I don't…speak Chinese."

"I'm Chris," Xane repeated in English. "Nice to meet you."

"You speak English?" David asked blankly.

"Nhean," Juan added in annoyance, "get out here."

"I'm coming," another Asian man retorted, climbing out of the plane carefully with a bag. "Don't snap at me."

"You're taking your sweet time," the guy snapped.

"I was getting the bags," the guy retorted, rolling his eyes as he passed them to Raul. "I've got to go park this. I'll meet you guys by the main," he pointed toward the building, then moved to close the door and head toward the people of the airport.

"Such a sweet greeting," Junjie muttered sidelong to Xane as he passed to pull the fuming rich-boy into a hug.

"You sure can piss them off," Alvaro noted, also moving around Xane in that same way–they were both too close to him as they did it.

"What's going on?" Raul asked, blinking after the other.

"You can play translator," Bryn noted to Xane. "None of our English is really that great."

"He's parking the plane," Xane explained, fighting his urge to join his friend. "We're meeting back with him there," he pointed at the main building as well.

"Oh, thanks," Raul nodded slightly.

"Don't mind him," Chao whispered in Xane's ear. "We usually play together when he comes by."

"I thought so," Xane reassured him, hugging him in response to the closeness.

"What did he say to you?"

"I wouldn't be so happy to meet him if I knew what you did to him," Xane flashed him a slightly naughty grin. "I suggested it's what you do to me every night."

"Chris," Chao muttered, laughing wickedly as he moved into that hug. "You're horrible."

"I am," Xane reassured him. "Shall we?"

"Of course, lover," the man returned, then straightened and pretended not to notice Juan's very jealous glare.

…and no one but Xane saw Raul's 'oh my god' sort of smirk.

Xane wrapped his hand in Chao's, and followed along like the good little boyfriend he was supposed to be.

- -

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 8 am**

"You already look like nothing happened," Jordan congratulated Richard as the younger male followed after his uncle. "You actually awake yet?"

"Yeah," Richard smiled at him a bit distantly.

Quatre flashed a slight smile at his friend, reaching an arm out to catch the boy before he could walk past. "You want to hit the canteen?"

"In a bit," Jordan returned. "I'm waiting for my three."

"Oh," Quatre hesitated a moment, then nodded. "I'll get out of here or she'll distract me."

"Hm?" Richard asked, looking back to his uncle.

"Simone is one of his three," Quatre explained. "Simone is my girlfriend."

"Don't I get to meet her?" Richard asked.

"Not while she's on duty," Quatre retorted. "You're the one who was sleeping when she came last night."

"Oh, like that was my fault!" Richard protested, laughing happily.

He looked stoned.

Jordan grinned at the boy. "I'll call you when I get them going," he reassured them. "I'm pushing them off on Trowa until lunch. After that I'll have a good hour or two before any of them decide to come back...you gonna make it, blondie?" he asked, ruffling the nineteen-year-old's hair.

"I'm just a little tired," Richard returned, smiling more. "The doctor said that it's because of my dose...I guess it'll wear off as I wake up more."

"I told him just to sleep it off," Quatre noted, looking to his comrade. "He told me to do something inappropriate."

Richard started laughing.

"How did he even wake up?" Jor muttered almost covertly.

"My alarm," Quatre rolled his eyes.

"Maxwell!" Trent called from down the hall. "Winner!"

The pair looked up the hall to see Trent bouncing ahead of Max and Simone. He was waving at the trio in a pleasant sort of manner.

"They always travel together," Jordan mused somewhat quietly to Quatre. "The others didn't travel together..."

"The others work well alone," Quatre reminded him.

"Damn," Richard whispered, studying Simone before looking back to Quatre. "That's her?"

"Wow, you look stoned," Simone returned, studying him with interest.

Richard flashed her a grin, then leaned against his uncle, looking away.

"Later," Quatre muttered, leaning over to kiss her.

"Bye," she half-whispered to him as he led his nephew by her.

"So," Jordan muttered, pulling their attention back to him. "I have nothing to do with you for the day, so I'm giving you to Trowa...and he's going to use you to take over the world."

- -

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 8:10 am**

"Take over the world?" Trowa asked Trent blankly, looking to Max uncertainly.

"That's what he said," Simone agreed happily. "He said that we're here to help you take over the world."

"Huh," Trowa considered the machines a moment and shrugged. "I'm thinking more long term. We could take the world over by supper-time, but it'd only last until one country got their shit together...so we'll start with maneuvers..." he looked between the three of them with a grin. "Pick a machine, my dears. Let's fly."

Simone looked to Max with large eyes, then they both looked to Trent.

"Come on," Trowa added, turning and waving up at Doug, who was on a machine. He made a sharp little circle in front of himself, then gestured back at the three.

Doug considered the three of them a moment, then nodded and turned to start closing up the machine he was working on.

"Move," Trowa ordered sharply, turning back to three of them.

"Sir!" Max agreed excitedly, then turned and darted for the machine directly to their left.

"Of course he picks that one," Trowa muttered as Trent and Simone moved to follow. He grinned to himself, turning to the machine directly behind himself. He couldn't help but wonder what Jordan would say. He wasn't overly worried about it, but he _did_ want to hear.

- -

**February 12, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 12:30 am**

"Yeah, there's nothing really interesting going on," Raul summed, thinking. "The guy I'm going through in Vladivostok hooked me up with Shire...your guy really pissed him off. He was ranting about his wallet being raped."

Xane smirked at that and shook his head. "So far as I've gathered, there's no one in this area that will go against them. Actually, it's an issue I'm having, because Jor is only letting me stay until Wednesday...unless I can really come up with something," he frowned. "I've got names and shit, but he hasn't recanted yet."

"I doubt he will; I saw how Chao was looking at you. He's really fallen for you."

Xane lost his good humor, looking away and shaking his head.

"I don't see how you're going to get out of it," Raul pressed, studying him. "If no one will go against him, what are you going to do, really? I mean..."

"I know," Xane snapped, still not meeting his eyes. "I know..."

"Have you thought about it?" Raul pressed. "I'm not just leaving this because you're uncomfortable with it. We have Riley on hand..."

Xane met his eyes sharply.

Raul grinned. "Jor freaked out, thinking this was a set-up. Riley's running around somewhere to pull us out."

"I thought he didn't want them around."

"Danielle is the one he's worried about. He immediately sent Rile here as soon as he realized I was coming. I'm sure she has us an evac plan already."

"I haven't seen her," Xane half-whispered, thinking.

"Are you paying attention?" Raul teased. "I saw the way _you_ looked with that boy of yours."

Xane frowned at him.

"Okay...okay," Raul soothed quickly. "I won't press you on it...but...I mean…I'm only here until Monday."

Xane sighed and shrugged, nodding.

There was noise in the hall, and Xane sighed, pulling his weight off the couch to head toward the door. He'd been sitting with Raul, happy to be in that safety...but it didn't work. Chao didn't know they knew each other, so if Xane was sitting _with_ some guy he didn't know it'd look bad.

"Hey," Chao muttered happily, sliding through the door to kiss Xane happily. "How are you?"

"I'm getting tired," Xane admitted, kissing him again with a small smile. It was partially forced, though, because he was actually happy to see the guy...and Raul had just pointed out that it really _was_ almost over.

"It's getting late," Chao agreed, considering his watch a moment. "You work tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Xane agreed, moving out of Juan's way with the blond. "Not until ten, though."

"Call in," Chao suggested in a half-whisper, kissing him again. "I want to take you tomorrow."

"Okay," Xane smiled slightly at him.

Juan gave Xane a dirty look as he passed by. "Hey," he greeted Raul, moving around to sit with him. "You're not too bored, are you?"

"No," Raul returned easily. "We were keeping entertained."

"That's good, are you ready to leave, yet?"

"I have some tea on," Xane noted, pulling away from Chao and heading for the kitchen. "You want a glass?"

"What?" Chao asked, frowning.

"I have tea on," Xane repeated in Russian. "I asked of Juan wanted any."

"Oh, yeah, you should stay a bit more," Chao agreed, then tilted his head at Raul. "You speak Russian?"

"It's not that bad," Raul agreed. "Not my best, though."

"I didn't know _you_ spoke Russian," Chao added, looking back to Xane.

Xane smiled slightly in return, starting to pull cups out. "I speak German, too."

"Really?" Chao was impressed.

"And Spanish," Xane agreed happily. "I want to learn more."

"Linguist," Chao accused, moving around to stand near him and watch as he started pouring the liquid. "You wanna take a class?"

"I'll think about it," Xane noted, reminding himself again that he was leaving Wednesday.

Chao grinned and kissed him again, taking two of the cups to give to their guests. "So," he added in Russian. "Where are you from?"

- -

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

Jordan was nervous.

Chance blinked as he realized it, considering his friend without letting it become obvious. Quatre was normal, and Richard looked a tad bright-eyed as he listened to their conversation with intense interest.

Granted, Jordan had disappeared with Riley to the airport before the Rest had been shot at, so maybe whatever plot he'd been hatching was coming to fruition. He seemed calm and cool enough, really, but his fingers kept twitching over his thigh, and occasionally his eyes would stray away from the table...

The three former pilots froze, all looking toward the windows as the unmistakable rumble of a mobile suit met their ears.

"What's that?" Richard asked, following their attention a moment or two later.

"Suits," Chance returned, listening intently. "I've been hearing them off and on all day."

"Isn't that Trowa's thing?"

"Yeah," Jordan returned, still watching the window himself. "You don't think..." he started, looking back to Chance.

"I try not to," Chance noted wryly.

"We've noticed," Quatre muttered just as dryly. He shook his head and looked back to Jor. "You sent them to him today, didn't you? Paris was saying that he was nearly finished with those suits. If he did fix that lot he'd want to test them."

"On untrained pilots," Jordan noted, rolling his eyes.

"Of course, it's what he always does," Chance dismissed it with a wave of the hand. "If a layman can make it go there aren't many problems left."

"Seriously?" Jor looked between them.

"It's what he does," Quatre shrugged. "Granted, between the three of us," he gestured at Chance, "he had enough to do his entire set...extra, really. Wufei's team had to wait a bit before they all got a go, but they did."

"Where _is_ Wufei?" Jordan muttered, looking between them.

"I don't know," Quatre grinned slightly. "He and Morgan have been off doing shit again. I think they're still playing with their toy empath."

"That's not very nice," Chance reprimanded.

Quatre ignored him. "And I think he's getting his guys ready to run mine. Are either of you ready?"

"What?" Richard asked blankly, looking to his uncle.

"Which?" Quatre returned.

"Guys?"

"About ten of them...Paris is my second."

"I can't run yours until my five get back," Jordan noted, considering Quatre a moment.

"I have a retraining day next week," Chance shrugged. "I'm taking them again then..."

There was a general outcry as a mobile suit swooped down low outside the building...but the sound and the suddenness of the appearance had the three former pilots on their feet with their firearms in their hands.

That got even more an outcry.

"Wow, you three are still as psycho as ever," Logan Doll noted happily, bouncing into the building. "Is that Chang and Barton playing?"

"Barton, anyway," Jordan returned, looking around until he noted Richard was staring at them. "Shit, let's go kick his ass."

"Okay," Richard said with a naughty laugh, bouncing to his feet. "Let's go!"

"You just want to see the suits up close," Quatre accused.

"I dunno, watching Maxwell grind Barton into the pavement could be highly highly entertaining," Logan suggested, looking around the Canteen.

People were still watching them.

A second machine made the swoop to more annoyed noise, and Jordan forced himself to put his firearm back in its holster.

A pistol didn't do too much good against a mobile suit.

"Come on," Chance muttered, tossing a large bill on the table and starting for the exit. "I hate being confined when there are mobile suits in the air."

"Maybe...we...could fly?" Logan asked curiously, following Chance with an unobtrusive sort of hope.

"Maybe," Chance returned, shaking his head.

Richard flashed Logan a happy sort of grin.

"Hello...who are you?" Logan muttered, noticing and studying him with interest. "Are you straight?"

Richard laughed and blushed at the same time.

"Logan," Quatre reprimanded, smacking at him. "That's my _nephew_."

"Oh, the kid who got on the news, huh?" Logan's eyes were bright. "How old are you?"

"Old enough," Richard retorted, looking away.

"Legal?"

Quatre started laughing as they moved into the parking lot. "I'm going to _kick_ your ass..."

Logan started laughing as well, then prudently moved to the far side of Chance.


	38. 38

— 38 —

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 12:15 pm**

Trowa was laughing his ass off as he paced Max, wondering if his friends were pulling their hair out or not. If he'd made sure the three of them had stayed confined to the training air space, it wouldn't have been an issue, but he hadn't made sure of that, so he was flying with Max over the base's living quarters, trying to direct the guy back toward more proper flying zones.

"Barton, I got the girl back in line!" Doug called. "I'm gonna go get that other boy…"

"Kick ass," Trowa returned, accelerating his machine to intercept the turn Max was heading into.

"Holy shit!" Max's voice was almost startling.

There was a set-up in the machines that, if you had the option on, meant that you were constantly connected with your comrades. Repeated noises, like laughing, cursing…or screaming…would eventually stop the sensor. Trowa had to figure Max was either laughing his ass off the entire time or not saying much.

"What?" Trowa demanded, not able to spot the guy's source.

"How are you moving _that_ fast?" Max demanded.

"What? It's called acceleration…you know, the slidey thing on the right?"

"No!" Max protested, his suit slowing up. "I have this as far as I can handle it…"

"Do I need to remind you that I've been flying as long as I can remember?"

Max didn't respond.

"Head back to Simone," Trowa added. "I'm done playing tag with you."

"Sir," Max returned…and immediately started in that direction.

Trowa shook his head, raising up in the air more. He knew he was going to hear about the playing from Une before the day was over, probably before the hour was over, but they _had_ been enjoying themselves.

"Uh…" Doug's voice was uncertain.

"I'm _so_ going to kick your ass," Jordan's voice crackled over another radio…there was the sound of shouting and protests from that background…and suddenly another of the altered Leos took to the air.

"Ah, Maxwell," Trowa drawled his friend's name out. "I knew you liked my toys…"

"I'm going to fuck that machine over so you can't come flying through the base again," Jordan noted happily.

There was a wicked laugh.

"Stay there," Chance muttered quietly, though his voice wasn't directed away from his machine.

"All right," a quiet voice returned.

"I wanna fly!" Logan protested. "Let me fly!"

"Get in, then," Quatre retorted.

"Um…what are you doing?" Trowa demanded, inputting the codes to turn on the cams of the activated mics…to see Simone, Trent, Max, and Doug, then Jordan, Quatre, Chance, and Richard. Richard was in with Chance. A moment later, Logan appeared on another screen, bouncing in his seat as he started activating the controls.

"We're going to grind you into the pavement," Jordan explained happily.

"In other words," Chance noted, "Jor's it."

Trowa flashed the guy a grin as his machine beeped to indicate his camera had been activated.

"What?" Simone demanded, looking around at her in confusion.

"What's going on?" Max added, appearing there as well. After a moment, Trent appeared with a similar protest.

"You didn't hurt my guys, did you?" Trowa added, focusing sharply on Jordan.

"I was going to," Jor shrugged. "But somehow they got smart enough to avoid that much confrontation."

"Haha," Trowa gave him a look. He considered everyone he could see a moment before sighing and shifting down in his seat, pulling the walkie-talkie he had hooked to his arm to his mouth and hitting the button. "Flight team, secure the perimeter."

"Yes, sir!" his various men responded happily, scampering to the remaining suits.

"Okay, you three," Doug said sharply, focusing on the youngest set. "You're gonna wanna let the boys play amongst themselves. Feel free to join in when you're in normal air space, but the four of them are like to touch the sky."

"Sir," Simone said in an almost quavering voice.

"You're not scared, are you, pussycat?" Jordan asked, focusing on her in amusement.

"I don't fly that well, sir," she returned, meeting his eyes.

"Right," he agreed almost sardonically. "Trowa?"

"Yes'm?" Trowa asked, getting a little excited as he crossed into the proper air space himself.

"I'm going to kick your ass, you know."

"You're going to try," Trowa returned, his eyes sparkling. "Let's remind ourselves that I grew up in a suit and that I've been fixing them and testing them consistently for the past five or eight years…whatever the count is anymore."

Jordan flashed him a smirk.

"Chance?" Quatre asked sweetly.

"Mm?" Chance returned, though he was focused on getting Richard settled.

"If you hurt my nephew," Quatre returned, "you won't live to regret it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Chance noted without even looking around.

"No, I'm serious," Quatre noted.

Chanced turned to focus on the screen in amusement. "Whatever you say."

- -

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 4 pm**

Wufei sipped from his fountain drink as he leaned against the gaited entry of the field, watching the skies with interest as the various mobile suits performed aerial acrobatics for the amusement of the masses…or something.

Actually, it was more like a game of tag than acrobatics, though there were plenty of those.

It'd been going on for hours.

Wufei took another drink from his cup, then looked around. The entry was locked, and there were a few suits around the perimeter, which were probably there just as much to keep the suits in the fly-zone–there'd been an issue earlier in the day with them over the base–as to keep unwanted bystanders out.

No one would be stupid enough to follow him, they probably all knew who he was. He stepped back, sizing up the fence, then jumped at it.

The metal clashed and jangled loudly in either direction, causing the watchers to turn and look at him in amazement as he carefully scrambled over the barbed-wire spiral at the top, then dropped backwards into the yard.

As he'd expected, the motion sensor of one of the suits picked him up immediately and the suit turned, taking those very intimidating steps towards him.

Wufei waited, eyeing the monitor almost pointedly as the machine came to a stop…then the hand moved the approval.

Like they would have refused _him_.

He shook his head as an excited chitter moved up the fence, moving toward a machine himself. He was torn between the fun he knew his brethren were having and the fact that it was in giant _weapons_…weapons everyone had decided to destroy that were collected from the scrap heap and thrown at Trowa to play with.

Trowa's unit wasn't the only unit to restore the suits…but he was probably the highest-ranking officer amongst the units.

Wufei was also pretty sure that Trowa's unit was the only one altering the previous construction.

Leos weren't supposed to fly.

He grabbed the tow of one of the machines and clicked the button, starting up as he listened to the noises above him. He wasn't really _comfortable_ with that, truth be told. The movement brought to mind a battle, and the fact that he was unprotected made his heart beat faster…but there were no shots, and the people watching weren't afraid.

He hopped onto the platform, then slid into the machine, considering the controls a moment before starting to power it up. As soon as the hatch was closed, the screens flashed to life…with his comrades, laughter, and sound.

He blinked.

"Fei!" Trowa exclaimed delightedly, focusing on him. "Are you coming to play, too?"

"I can't very well sit at the fence," he retorted, hitting the final button. He closed his eyes as the feeling of power washed over him–the sheer _magnitude_ of the power at his hands…

"Or on it," Trowa mused. "Not with us all on the same side…"

"I did that before," Wufei muttered quietly, opening his eyes and looking around again. "It doesn't work."

- -

**February 11, A.C. 205. Base. 7 pm**

Une looked a bit pissed.

"Hey, come on," Jordan cut her off before she could even open her mouth, moving in close to her like he'd always used to do. "Calm down," he muttered, catching her hand. "You know we didn't mean any harm, and I really _was_ trying to kick Tro's ass at first."

She frowned at him.

"You can't be angry at us for that," Jor moved on quickly, moving around so he stayed in front of her before she could pace off. "We were testing Tro's machines."

"You disrupted the _entire_ base," she snapped back.

Trowa and Chance exchanged looks without turning their heads. They were standing at formal attention with Jor's team behind them and Doug. The rest of Tro's team had been excused as following orders, but that was more because they didn't fit in the office.

"Everything was behind today, Jordan," Une snapped when the guy remained quiet. "Most of today's work was left undone, everyone is talking about you lot _playing_ with the _**weapons**_, and…they were _over_ the base!"

Trowa started to open his mouth, but Chance gestured sharply at him to be still.

"It was an oversight," Jordan reassured her without missing a beat. "It was…they wanted to fly some and we let them."

"You're full of shit," Une informed him pointedly. "You weren't even there until noon or better."

"Well, shit," Jordan snapped irritably, losing his soothsayer's aire. "It's not our fault the people are too stupid to remember there's work to do."

"Don't get pissy at me because _you_ broke the rules," she snapped at him in a matching irritated tone. "You _know_ there's a line I have to draw with the five of you. You _know_ that when you do certain things it requires a reprimand."

"Don't be stupid," he snapped sharply. "We were testing the machines."

"You had nothing to do with the base flying," Une shot back. "There were people saying that it bothered you and that's why you joined in."

"What's your point?" he retorted. "It doesn't negate the fact that we were testing the machines."

"Don't raise your voice to me," she responded, her own voice rising. "I'm still the superior here, and _you_ have to obey me."

Chance looked around to Quatre, not liking the static.

If Jordan actually got annoyed with Une, shit tended to hit the fan.

"I have to obey you? Do you honestly think that old tired line will _work?_ I've _been_ to Lower Angels, and…haha," he fake laughed brightly, "none of y'all _found_ me."

"But we know you'll go to the dogs now," she hissed.

"Jordan!" Chance snapped, jumping forward as Une cringed back.

Jordan slammed his hands against the desk behind her, causing the entire thing to shift…and an extremely loud sound.

Une was standing completely still.

Jordan turned his head, still with his hands and weight against the desk to meet her eyes. "You ever say one word about my wife, and so help me…"

Chance pulled Jordan away from their superior with a sick sensation in his stomach. It had been a long time since Jor had actually snapped and made the woman cringe back.

Simone and Trent exchanged a look before looking back to Max, who was blinking at Une. She still wasn't looking up at the pilots.

"I apologize," Chance noted, tossing Jordan at the line of the others. "We didn't think our testing the machines would make such a fuss."

"I knew that," she muttered, not looking at them.

"We'll leave you now," Chance noted, looking the group of them over, then shoved Jordan at the door.

Jordan hadn't had the chance to regain his composure, and the fact that he was slammed into Trent and Simone meant that they were both shoved out of his way. Quatre tsked irritably as he turned to follow, and Chance forced Jordan toward the door with another shove…

It'd been more than a year since it'd happened.

Jordan…snapped. As soon as he regained his balance, he launched himself snarling at Chance so they fell to the floor.

"Maxwell!" Simone wailed, dancing out of the way as Chance's irritation reached the same level…

"Stay back," Quatre hissed, pulling the girl away. "Just keep back…"

"But…" Simone started.

"They do this sometimes," Trowa reassured her, pulling Trent and Max away by the elbows. "Usually takes more stress…"

"You know he sent Riley off somewhere," Wufei protested. "I don't know what's going on with his five, but he's been getting edgy lately…"

"Maxwell!" Une was shouting as she moved up behind. "Yuy!"

"You're not going to help," Trowa snapped at her, pulling Trent back even further. "Just keep back, they'll finish in a second…"

"Simone!" Quatre protested.

They all more or less froze in horror as the blond girl ducked around her boyfriend…and threw herself on Chance's arm, which had been drawn back for his next blow since he'd managed to get on top. He turned to focus on her in confusion…and she dropped her rear onto Jordan's chest.

Chance backed off as Jordan dropped his head back, his chest still heaving. "Get off me," he ordered her.

"Not until you've composed yourself," she retorted.

"Get the _fuck_ off me!" he snapped, grabbing her waist.

She turned…and did something that caused him to swear…vehemently.

"Simone!" Quatre protested, moving forward hesitantly.

"You _bitch!_" Jordan's voice was completely indignant.

"Don't _touch_ her!" Quatre's voice cracked as he moved forward…and caught sight of Jordan's hand-cuffed hands.

He stopped and stared at that…but Jordan was running at the mouth, gesturing a bit wildly with both of his hands as Simone sat back from that, partially flinching.

Trowa laughed wickedly, moving forward himself, hesitant.

"Control yourself," she snapped at him. "Control yourself and I'll take them off!"

He informed her of exactly what he thought she was instead of doing anything that might be mistaken as helpful. It didn't take him long to swear himself out, though, and then he was looking at the door to the exit.

"You done?" Simone asked almost acidly.

"Fuck you."

"You're a real asshole, you know that, Maxwell?"

"You're so not getting any vacation for a year…fuck Quatre."

"I should," she retorted, nonplussed. "Lord knows, I wanna get laid."

Chance sniggered.

Jordan focused on her, glaring.

"If you keep looking like that, your face will freeze that way," Simone informed him maturely.

"Uncuff me, now," he ordered.

"When you're in control of yourself, I will," she replied calmly.

"If you want any time off for the next ten…"

"I can quit your team, Maxwell," she noted pointedly. "If you start being too much of a dick I'll go find something more interesting to do."

He stopped, frowning at her.

"Now, are you done?" she demanded, raising her key so he could see it.

He glowered at her a long moment, then huffed and looked away. "Yes."

"Good," she snapped, shoving the key in and causing it to click. "I was getting tired of sitting on you."

"I could have thrown you," he retorted, rubbing at his wrists as he sat up. "I should have."

"Are you okay, Yuy?" she asked sweetly, turning her back on her superior to move in and touch Chance's face. "You're not bleeding too much," she noted, running a finger along one eye. "You'll have bruises though."

"It happens," he noted, avoiding her eyes.

"No, that wasn't your fault," she soothed him, moving so he'd meet her eyes. "You didn't really provoke that."

Chance sighed and shrugged, looking away from her again.

"Oh, so I should have just let him shove me?" Jordan demanded irritably. The fact that he knew part of it was jealousy was _not_ helping his mood. He turned and gestured at her as he met Quatre's eyes. "You don't care about this shit? She's all over there lovin' on him…"

Simone tsked disgustedly, turning to look at Jordan with narrowed eyes.

He huffed and looked away.

Une was looking between all of them with an extremely annoyed expression on her face. "You know what?" she asked, causing them all to turn and look at her. "Get the _fuck_ out of my office…now."

They all studied her a long moment, then sighed and moved forward. Wufei leaned down and grabbed Jor's wrist to pull him to his feet, then gave him a disgusted look when he instantly pulled away.

"You are _so_ not going to be alone with Chai tonight," Quatre informed him as they stormed into the hall. "She _so_ doesn't deserve your _fucking_ attitude."

"Like she's done anything to piss me off," Jordan retorted, trying to out-storm his comrade.

"That was a fairly smooth-move, princess," Trowa noted, looking to Simone curiously.

Simone smiled slightly at him in response. "I'm the only girl in my family and the second to the youngest. My brothers get pissed at each other sometimes and letting them have it out isn't an option."

"Jor might make good his threat," Wufei cautioned. "You might…"

"No," Simone returned mildly. "Because then I'll make good mine. He's already got me more than halfway trained. It wouldn't behoove him for me to walk out on him."

"I think I love you," Doug noted, moving up to drape an arm around her shoulder and give her a flirtatious look. "Wanna come home with me tonight?"

"I think my boyfriend is jealous enough, thank you," she noted, brushing him off. "I didn't mean anything, Chance," she added, smiling somewhat innocently at him. "I just needed him jealous."

"Of course you did," Chance retorted, rubbing at his still bleeding lip. "Whatever."

Simone grinned at him, then sighed. "I need to go calm Quatre down…"

The group of them watched her run off, then exchanged interested looks.

"Simone may be many things," Max noted happily, "but boring _isn't_ one of them."

"Minx seems to work," Trent agreed, looking to his friend. "Maybe deceitful."

"Shh," Max whispered in return, pressing his index finger to his lips. "Don't tell them or she'll get mad."

"Ooh, shit," Trent agreed, looking around briefly before starting to walk faster.

Trowa gave Max a very level look…and Max grinned in response.

- -

E/N: Thanks for the review, Kitakiken! Hope you guys are still enjoying this!


	39. 39

— 39 —

**February 12, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 11 am**

Xane grinned slightly at Raul as they walked up toward the building Chao based out of. He was noticing Raul's eyes taking in the cars, the fact that the ones along the main curb were all sports toys, and the fact that most of the rest of the lot was made up of nice and sensible vehicles.

He rubbed at his face instead of commenting, trusting his friend to get what he meant.

It figured.

Xane turned his attention languidly onto the vehicles under the carport, since it was mostly just a pull-through with room for twenty or so cars…or things. Those were the bullet-proofed machines.

Raul shoved his hands in his pockets as they pushed through the entrance of the building, not giving the cars any overt attention.

"Mr. Xu," a woman breezed up to him breathlessly. "We have everything ready."

"Thank you, Lita," he returned, nodding at her. "We'll go now, then."

"Of course, Mr. Xu," she muttered, smiling at Xane before falling a step behind Raul.

Chao led the pair of them to the left instead of straight and to his office area, which he'd always done before. When Xane moved to catch up to him and grab his hand, Chao smirked in return.

The morning had actually entertained Xane highly, because Juan was really not getting his way, and it was bugging the shit out of him. He'd brought Raul with him to the apartment about an hour before with the master plan of them all going out to some big breakfast, only to find that Chao wasn't dressed and was making breakfast for himself and "Chris"…which had further been an irritant when he'd realized that "Chris" had only just woke up before they knocked. It had turned into Chao making them all the big breakfast Juan so wanted, before he and Xane went to take a quick shower together.

The end result was Raul rolling his eyes very pointedly to his friend when the other two couldn't see, and Juan sulking about being tired. He'd become even more petulant when Chao suggested that Raul stay with them so he could sleep without worrying about his guest.

Chao really had just meant well. He was being sweet and considerate…it was Xane who was being a dick and loving it…and even Raul seemed highly amused by it.

They started down a quiet back hall that was empty. As soon as Lita had closed the door behind them, the sound from the main area was almost entirely muted.

"What's this?" Xane asked curiously. He hadn't ever been allowed to explore the building on his own. Anything he did had been with Chao.

"Just a little distraction," Chao noted, smiling at him sweetly. "I thought you might be amused."

The suit.

Xane smiled sweetly at the guy, wrapping their fingers together.

Raul sighed very slightly…and pointedly enough that Xane instantly understood.

Yes, they were very attached to each other and it was going to be hard to just leave on Wednesday, he didn't need the constant reminder…

Or did he?

He needed to figure out how he was leaving without making waves.

They neared an end door and Lita moved up and around them to a keypad. The woman typed in a four-digit code…three seven two nine…and stepped aside with that same happy smile.

"Thank you," Chao muttered to her as she started away, though it wasn't actual appreciation. He led them through the door and down some stairs, turning to smile at Xane again…before they stepped into a…garage.

"This is interesting," Raul noted, looking up the very tall length of the thing. "How is this underground?"

"It's not, entirely," Chao returned, pointing at darkened windows along the top of the building. "We covered them and painted that over, but this used to be a military base for suits."

"Was it?" Xane asked, still looking around the thing himself.

It extended out and over enough so that it was obviously under the parking lot, and possibly under neighboring buildings.

"Yeah, a suit depot," Chao agreed, grinning at him. "They based out of here to try to control China." As he said it, he gestured with both his hands, indicating the land. "The Earth's Sphere Alliance…White Fang…the Gundam pilots…" he shook his head. "If anything, the A0206 tragedy should show that the heart of China beats true."

Raul and Xane exchanged dark looks, then looked away without responding to the man.

The A0206 tragedy had probably been the worst thing to happen throughout the Eve Wars. It had probably contained the _most_ pointless deaths…and the soldiers did _not_ appreciate Xu Chaoxiang casually claiming pride over something that had ruined Chang Wufei's life.

Chao turned back to them with pride in his eyes, then gestured for them to follow as he started to walk.

"How did you get this?" Raul muttered after another moment.

"The military put it up for auction," Chao shrugged happily. "The strictures were that whatever came here, this hanger needed to remain and that it was not a tourist play-toy. I think it sounds ominous," the man added happily in Chinese, smiling at Xane. "The military wanting it to remain a hanger…I thought we were remaining with peace."

"I'm sorry," Raul said quietly in Russian. "I didn't…"

"He said he thinks it's ominous," Xane translated easily to English. "Ominous that the military wants to keep this a hanger when we're supposed to be maintaining peace."

"Ah, yeah," Raul nodded his feigned agreement.

If they were truly about to _see_ a mobile suit, then that suggested that the military was right in keeping its bases. Not all men believed in pacifism, so the government couldn't entirely disarm.

"Shire got ahold of three suits," Chao noted happily to the pair of them in Russian. "Two of them are heaps, but there is one in much better condition, and it's the one Juan really wants to buy. I keep telling him to buy the two broken ones and hire someone to rebuild them…one's a Leo and one's an Aries. I heard tell that back in the United States there's a guy that can make Leos fly. Money turns heads, you know?"

Xane smiled his agreement, though the amusement was more at the idea that Trowa might even consider building one of his altered Leos for anyone else.

"The thing is," Chao added, "Shire's only going to sell the whole suit or the two crap ones to Juan. He refuses to do all of them. He says that he thinks Juan is too…showy," he looked to Raul. "No offense intended, but he really is."

"Yeah, a lot," Raul agreed dryly.

"So if he had all three he'd start playing at invincible. Juan might be damn good in bed, but he's got too much pride and boast in him."

Raul nodded slightly, still studying their surroundings. He was looking for the lot number that should be painted on one of the walls near the top.

"All right," Chao added as the neared a turn, "if the two of you say anything to anyone…" he shook his head. "Just don't, all right? No one else needs to hear about this."

"All right," Xane agreed.

They moved around the corner, and Chao stepped aside, studying the machines himself.

A war torn Aries, standing in a brace…an equally war-torn Leo that looked almost ready to fall over…and a sleek Taurus with the huge beam canon at its feet.

Xane's heart skipped a beat.

"I can see why he wants the new one," Raul noted, staring up at it.

Chao laughed, walking forward and craning his neck to look up at the thing…and his cell rang, echoing almost shrilly through the large empty space. He opened it instantly. "Hello? Right now? I can't, I'm…what?" he tsked in disgust. "Fuck," he added, closing the phone and looking to Xane. "Let's go," he muttered, starting to gesture.

"What's wrong?" Xane asked, not moving.

"Shire's trying to fuck us over," Chao returned. "Come on."

"But…I only got to look at it," Xane protested, turning back to the monstrosity behind him.

Chao snorted, then gestured at him. "Stay here until I come back to get you. I'm serious, none of the guys know what's down here, and the others will flip out that I brought him," he pointed at Raul. "No one should come down, but try to keep out of sight if they do, I don't want to deal with it."

"All right," Xane agreed, watching as he turned and disappeared around the corner.

Raul considered him a moment, then moved toward the beam canon.

"This is cool," Xane adlibbed, being sure to sound happy as he moved as well. "It's so shiny…" he continued the brainless praise of the machine until the door had closed, then stopped and closed his eyes.

"Not just one," Raul half whispered. "_Three_."

"I know," Xane whispered back, moving to lean against the canon a moment.

"We need to go up and find the serial numbers," Raul added, heading for the ladder to the head-level walkways. "This is fucked up…"

"Then we can find the static numbers," Xane agreed, following resignedly. "That way we can…"

"If they're keeping it as a hanger, they're still managing it," Raul noted quietly.

"I know," Xane agreed. "Let's hope they don't show up while these are here."

"Seriously," Raul returned, looking away.

Those weren't the words he'd wanted to hear. He'd wanted to hear Xane mouth the same thoughts that were in his head.

If they could get the static numbers, then the military could perform a perfunctory check of the hanger and catch the suits before anyone, including Juan Tsai, could get their hands on them.

He wasn't sure exactly what Xane's motive behind the comment was, though. He didn't want to have to…tell Jordan.

Maybe he would get lucky, and wouldn't have to.

- -

**February 12, A.C. 205. Weis, Austria. 4 am**

Alek sank back on the twin-sized bed that was his for the night, studying Judas with sober eyes.

Judas' laughter trailed off as he frowned at the other man. "What? Come on, that was funny and you know it."

The man flashed him a smile, then looked away completely.

"What's wrong?" Judas asked, his own smile slowly fading as he sat on his own bed.

He'd gotten the others laughing their asses off because Victor had noted he'd share the king sized bed in the second room the group had, and Ras had flipped a coin for it. As they'd walked out of the room, Judas had reminded Kiel that Ras was going to be on the other bed, so he'd need to keep his voice down or they'd tell his girl…Victor had noted that there wouldn't be much chance of that, and Ras had noted that if Victor did any such thing, he'd become much less a man over night.

Actually, Judas had noted those sidelong looks from Aleksander since the man had overheard his call to Jor. He was wondering if the man was actually going to keep his peace…or if he may have already told one of the others about it.

"I can't figure you out," Alek noted in response to his question, shifting so his feet were on the bed and folding his elbows over his knees. "I can't figure out who you're working for."

"What are you talking about?" Judas demanded mildly, kicking his shoes off. "We work for Holt."

Alek raised his head and met his eyes pointedly.

"What did you hear?" Judas asked him calmly. "You heard me talking in English, saying what time I'd killed the man."

"You said you'd walked away from the assholes," Alek pointed out. "You reported to someone that you killed him because…"

"Because he tried to take you hostage," Judas agreed, narrowing his eyes. "You trying to say that you'd rather I'd let him take you?"

"That's _not_ the point!" Alek's voice rose as he sat up straight. "I expected nothing less! You _called_ someone to report it!"

"How do you know it wasn't the cops?" Judas snapped back.

"Because if the cops know about us, then you've fucked us over," Alek returned, his voice lowering as he glared at Judas. "Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell," Judas retorted.

"Tell me," Alek insisted, moving to the edge of the bed. "You saved my life, I owe you my life. I just need to _know_."

"You need to calm down and get ready for bed," Judas denied, rising to his feet and starting for the bathroom…and slammed into the wall beside the door with a groan.

"If you've fucked us over…" Alek started to hiss.

Judas turned and slammed the man backwards against the far wall, glowering at him as he slid into a half-crouch on the ground, eyes closed tightly. "Don't _fucking_ man-handle me," he half-snarled.

Alek, however, jumped at him. He slammed backwards into the door, throwing the other off as his lower back screamed in pain. He'd hit the doorknob…and then Alek was there again, looking a little wild-eyed as he tried to subdue Judas.

Judas, however, had been trained by Chang Wufei.

The pair wrestled several minutes before Judas finally overcame Alek completely and used a near-by belt to wrap the other's hands behind his back.

Both of their chests were heaving, though Alek's was a lot more harried and scared than Judas'. Judas stepped back, dragging in several deeper breaths as he surveyed his companion.

"You're going to get us all killed!" Alek snapped up at him, his eyes shining like he was near to tears. "You're going to take everything we just built up and use it to sacrifice our families!"

"I'm _not_ stupid," Judas retorted, dropping down cross-legged in front of the other as he pressed at his swollen lip. "Don't just assume that I'm going to uproot your entire life when you've done nothing but _help_ me."

Alek blinked at him, calming slightly as he studied his face.

"I'll untie you if you promise not to do that again," Judas added darkly, still pressing at his lip. "If not, I'll leave you there."

"I'll keep you awake al night," Alek retorted, looking away from him.

"Then I'll fucking hog-tie you, shove a god-damn sock in your mouth, and throw you in the tub," Judas spat.

Alek looked away again.

"You seriously don't trust me?" Judas demanded, glaring at him. "I fucking saved your _life_."

Alek looked down.

Judas tsked in disgust and knocked the man over sideways. Alek was about to start kicking at him when he realized the guy was actually undoing the buckle around his wrists, then pushed himself up as he rubbed them, not looking at the man.

"Fucking _trust_ me," Judas snapped at him, smacking the back of his head with the belt. "And really, Aleksander…what damn choice do you have? If you go tell Holt on me now, then I'll just say you were in on it with me."

Alek's eyes went wide as he looked up at Judas.

"And if you recall, he wanted _me_ and I took you with me…so he has no real reason to love you."

"You wouldn't…"

"You fuck me over, and I'll fuck you over twice," Judas retorted, tossing the belt down and turning for the bathroom again. "Get ready for bed, Alek; we have to be up by ten."


	40. 40

— 40 —

**February 12, A.C. 205. Base. 7am**

"Oh, Ambassador," Chance stood respectfully from his chair as the Mozambique ambassador stopped in his door. "Good morning…"

"Good morning," the man returned, stepping in the door and blinking at his various bruises in confusion. He decided, evidently, not to ask and tilted his head slightly. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"Of course," Chance reassured him, moving around his desk to offer the man a hand, then grab the door and close it. "How can I help you?"

"I'm concerned," the man explained, moving comfortably to sit at the desk. "The rebels we were discussing before…they'd calmed down and things had quieted along the border…and then they got riled up again."

Chance blinked at that, moving to sit against his desk near him and cross his arms. "Your governments are talking, aren't they?"

"Yes, and we've mutually agreed that we're not trying to invade each other or such things…but the peoples along the borders are convinced that the other government is intending to take over. Even our troops along the border are getting antsy."

Chance blinked at that, then nodded his head. "And your intelligence?"

He spread his hands helplessly, staring into Chance's face with an earnest expression.

"That's disturbing," Chance noted quietly.

"We don't get reports back and we don't get reports of bodies," the man noted, looking toward his lap. "We can't confirm that the men we've sent have been killed…if they're prisoners…or converted."

"Very…disturbing," Chance muttered, considering if it should be something for Jordan to do or the general government. "What is the racial stock? What's the mix?"

"Excuse me?" the man asked, looking up to him in confusion.

"There are still parts of the world where racial stocks are pure…and there are parts of the world where the mix is extreme. I've never been to Mozambique. Is it a mixed country?"

The man thought a moment then half shrugged and nodded. "There are many races in the country…"

"That's good," Chance returned, considering the information. "What does your government say?"

"They told me what was happening to see if I could come up with any ideas."

"And?"

"We need to find out who is inciting the rumors," he shrugged slightly. "We need to cut the snake's head off."

That sort of reasoning didn't lead to peace and Chance knew it factually. His own pseudonym was a standing memorial to how 'cutting off the head' left the body to writhe. He studied the man seriously a long moment, then looked away. There was an actual chance it would work…a philosophy such as that didn't stay in the mind of many if it hadn't proven itself…or was it just theory? It didn't matter. His aversion to the idea, so simply stated, was much like Wufei's aversion to rebuilding the mobile suits.

Wufei had still joined them in their flying.

"Hm," he muttered.

"I trust you," the man noted, looking up to meet his eyes. "You seem to me to be a man who knows the world. Is there anything in what I've said that you can see more in?"

Chance tilted his head at the guy in response, then settled back to think the information over. "All it really takes is one person," he noted quietly. "You can settle the group down, but if they don't feel secure and someone starts speaking the previous dialogue…"

"We thought we reassured them," he returned, looking down.

"Maybe someone on the other side started shaking his spear, huh?" Chance suggested. "Maybe the people they've been worried about have been spotted again."

The guy nodded, then sighed. "They reassured us they sincerely weren't…"

"Maybe it's just people," Chance had no real idea, despite the confidence he was hearing in his own voice. The Tanzanian government hadn't been very helpful or reassuring from the start.

The guy met his eyes again, looking upset.

"I know the information is confidential," he noted, looking down again. "I'm aware that any information you might have on the matter is utterly confidential…but if you can get me the reports you're receiving…past and present…I can look through it and see if I can find a pattern."

"That'd be…" the man started to sit up with wide eyes. Not unpleased, either.

"Any assistance from me is from _me_," Chance stated calmly. "From Chance Yuy…not Lieutenant General Chance Yuy…not the I.E.C. officer…"

That got him a startled look.

"If I meddle in this officially, it'll create a scene," Chance explained dryly, pushing away from the desk and moving to sit in his chair again. "It's entirely up to you if you want me to have the information or not. I assure you I'll try to help…but I cannot be officially involved without causing a major incident."

The man sighed almost in resignation, then looked to the ceiling and nodded. He rose to his feet, then ducked his head respectfully to the man. "I'll consider the matter. As this would be unofficial, shall I contact you at your home?"

"Or contact my friends," Chance agreed. "The other generals. They can get ahold of me no matter where I happen to be."

"Thank you, general."

"I apologize, ambassador," Chance returned as he started for the door. "I only wish I could be more help."

- -

**February 13, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 12 am**

"You think so?" Chao muttered into Xane's hair, comfortable and relaxed.

"Yeah," Xane agreed. "It was a good day," he added, rolling to curl more into the man.

"Mm…I suppose you shouldn't miss anymore work, huh?"

"Hm?"

"You have to prove the job by Wednesday," Chao reminded him quietly. "It's Sunday…"

"Oh…yeah," Xane muttered, his eyes opening.

"_You __**need**__ to think about it, Mouthy. You don't have that much time __**left**__…"_

Chao kissed the top of his head and sighed heavily, then sniggered slightly.

"Hm?" Xane asked, glad for the distraction.

"What ever will you do all day when your new friend goes home?" Chao teased.

"I'll work," Xane returned dryly.

"You're not going to miss him?" Chao protested, pulling back to grin down at him with mischief in his eyes.

"Maybe by an inch," Xane returned easily.

Chao laughed at that, snuggling down again. "We should see if we can get him to come visit again. Juan didn't used to bother me, but he was good in bed…he's really kind of annoying."

"I think he's fun…but that's more because I have you and he wants you."

Chao laughed a wicked little laugh, nuzzling at him again, then sighed. "Really, though. Kody's not so bad, huh? Or do you not like him?"

"He's fun," Xane reassured him. "It'd be good to have him come around again."

"I'll pull him aside later, then," Chao muttered, sighing as he closed his eyes again. "He seems to understand how Juan works well enough…he should know not to mention it."

"He's smart," Xane agreed, losing his focus again as he felt his lover shift into sleep.

He somehow got the impression he wasn't going to be sleeping very well.

- -

**February 13, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 1 am**

"You're trying to get us caught, aren't you?" Raul accused Riley as she climbed into the window of his hotel room. "You just _want_ to have to take us running across the roof-tops."

"Sort of," Riley agreed pleasantly, pulling the window closed and hopping lightly into his waiting arms to hug him tightly. "How's Mouthy?"

"He seems happy enough," Raul half-lied. "He's got Xu wrapped around his little finger, too. He took us to see the suits today."

"Lets move away form the window," she suggested, turning to pull the curtain closed. "Do you get woken up?"

"Whenever Juan decides he needs attention he wanders in here," Raul agreed, rolling his eyes. "I think he wants to get laid and didn't realize I'm straight."

Riley giggled quietly at that, moving to sit on the bed. "What's it he says? Personal preferences take a back seat to the need?"

"There is no _need_ of me sleeping with _him_," Raul retorted irritably.

Riley laughed more, watching as he kicked off his boots and pulled his shirt off. "Anything you can tell me?"

"No, I'm calling him in a few minutes," Raul returned, tossing that aside and heading for the bathroom. "You gonna hang out?"

"I know you're calling him," she protested mildly. "That's why I'm here."

"Oh…and here I thought our conversation about sleeping with people had promise."

She snorted.

Raul grinned at himself in the mirror as he started running the water.

He couldn't wait until this shit was done and they could all go home again…he missed his comrades…hell, he missed _Trowa_.

"What do you get to report?" Riley asked quietly, stretching out across the mattress and sighing slightly. The bedding smelled like him, and it was a definite reassurance.

"Static numbers…a couple serial numbers," Raul returned, nonplussed. Really, though, the stuff with Mouthy bugged him. He'd been trying to pretend it was fine all day, and while Juan had managed to get him out on the dance floor, there'd been a lovely distraction…now he had to _talk_ to his superior…and he didn't even get to do it alone.

"Static numbers?" Riley asked mildly. "How'd you come across a hanger?"

"You'll hear me tell him," Raul reassured her quietly. "You gonna sleep here?"

"No, I don't want to get caught…I'll report with you and then head back to my own place."

"Damn," he returned, wiping his face off with a slight grin.

"Don't be special, baby," she suggested, snuggling into the pillow. It was a damn comfy bed.

"You need to listen," he returned, moving into the main room again as he started taking things from his pockets. "Juan was dancing with me tonight and shit, so he might actually try coming in here. He passed out, but I don't know how far gone he was."

"You _are_ going to check on him, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Raul rolled his eyes. "Something about leaving my host to drown in his own vomit doesn't settle well with my morals."

"Morals take a back seat to the need," she noted happily.

Raul flashed her a grin, digging the scrambler out of his suit-case.

"I'm serious!" she protested happily as he moved across the room and plugged the scrambler into the extension port of the vid. The country's monitoring system would instantly pick up on his signal, but all of their scramblers were registered, and Jor had a damn high rank in the I.E.C. It'd tag on the mission code to the end and only people of Jor's rank or higher would be able to hack the conversation…if Jor let them, anyway.

He typed in the number.

"Talk to me, ladies," Jor purred, looking up to the monitor as he sat in full uniform at his desk.

"It's true," Raul informed him seriously. "One Taurus, one thrashed Aries, and one thrashed Leo. Chao's building over the river there…" Raul laughed slightly. "It's the old Fuzhou compound. He's got the suits in the actual hanger underground."

- -

**February 13, A.C. 205. Weis, Austria. 12 pm**

"Oi, wake up," Judas muttered, kicking at Alek's bed. "Come on, lazy ass."

"What?" Alek asked, opening his eyes to blink at the guy.

"Food," Judas explained, dangling the bag over the guy so he could see it. "It's noon already."

Alek blinked at him, pushing up onto an elbow and rubbing at his eyes.

Judas studied him a moment, then moved to drop on his own mattress and start digging out the foods. "Who have you told?"

"What?" Alek asked blankly.

"Who did you tell?" Judas repeated, meeting his eyes as he passed a burger over. "Vic?"

"No?" Alek took the thing from him and shook his head. "I didn't tell anyone."

Judas frowned slightly at that.

"Why?"

"Vic is giving up on us…and Kiel, too."

"Huh?" Alek asked intelligently, sitting up properly. "What do you mean, giving up on us?"

"Going home. Vic said his girl called him this morning complaining that he's never home…and Kiel's girl was there, too. Ras even has the look in his eyes."

Aleksander blinked at that in confusion, setting his feet on the floor as he thought. "You thought I told them?"

"Considering that _this_ is from you," he touched his still slightly swollen lip, "it sort of figured in."

"They nervous of you or something?"

"No," Judas admitted, considering things as he opened his own burger. "They were all apologetic."

"Well, he wanted _you_," Alek noted dryly. "He has no reason to love _us_."

"Hahaha," Judas retorted, passing him his fries as he scooted back to sit against the wall and study the other.

"Who are you working for?" the man asked quietly.

It had been vaguely entertaining when the others had seen their various bruises. The fact that they were sharing a room and were both a little beaten had made the others start the jokes about one trying to sleep with the other. The jokes had flown all day long since neither man had a very valid reason for obviously fighting. Judas wasn't really _trying_ to think of anything while Alek had nothing to say.

"I can't tell you," Judas returned evenly. "Do you think I honestly wouldn't have if there was any way I could?"

Alek blinked at him.

Judas sighed, shifting down where he sat. "I want to go home."

"You were there this Christmas," Alek reminded him.

"Yeah, but how long have I been here?" he met the man's eyes again. "At least I'm not alone, though. I wouldn't be able to stand it if I was alone."

"Half-assed," Alek returned darkly, dropping back against the wall himself. "If I were really such a good friend you'd tell me who you work for."

"You could get killed if I told you who I worked for…and it'd be more certain then any of us getting shot while out on a job," Judas shook his head. "Just trust me…or are you leaving me, too?" he looked up again.

Alek frowned and focused on eating without responding.

"You seriously didn't say?" Judas persisted.

"I didn't say a word, Dead," the man retorted, glaring at him. "It'd just be my word against yours and I don't think I'd win that."

. . . Judas felt his heart sink at that.

It was probably true.

He hadn't heard what his friend had done, but he'd really made himself a black sheep…in everything. The only people he had were the ones they were traveling with.

"Just…trust me," Judas half-whispered.

"You keep saying that," the man muttered at, pulling a tomato from his burger. "But you're not giving me anything to hold faith in."

"Have faith in me," Judas retorted.

"What if you're a snitch?"

Judas snorted at that, meeting his eyes. "Do you honestly think I'd get away with murder, even if I _were_ a snitch? Be serious."

The man thought about that a long moment, then shrugged and looked back to his burger.

- -

**February 13, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 5 am**

Raul blinked as the door to his room opened, wondering if Riley had come back…but only for a moment. He didn't say anything as the door closed again, and wondered at the man's brass as he set something on the counter.

If he touched him at all…

Juan slid into the bed quietly…and in against Raul's side.

"I can't sleep," Juan muttered when Raul had started to move. "I just…I can't sleep."

He sounded like he'd been crying.

Raul sighed heavily, shifting so the man settled more into the mattress.

There was no point in winning over Juan Tsai. There was no use in wrapping the man around his finger. He was not part of the group with the illegal arms. He was not part of the huge network over the planet. He was the spoiled son of a retired drug-lord. He was a pretty-boy with his own island that didn't threaten anyone unless they crossed him.

He was utterly unimportant, and he seemed to know it.

Juan curled more into Raul's side, grabbing handfuls of his shirt in both his hands.

There was no point in winning him over…but there was also no point in being needlessly cruel.


	41. 41

— 41 —

**February 12, A.C. 205. Base. 9 pm**

Jordan steepled his fingers as he sat on the couch in his living room, thinking. His day had turned long after he'd gotten Raul and Riley's reports…starting with Raul himself.

It was interesting to see Raul _obviously_ not telling him something. He'd always wondered if the men of the group would be able to keep information from him, and keep him from noticing both…but evidently Raul didn't have that skill.

So what was it? Had Xane done something deeper than had been reported? Could it be a passing thing? Maybe Riley had done something? There were several options connected to that particular circumstance…and it ranged anywhere between severe and pointless.

"You look all pensive," Richard noted, moving from Quatre's room to climb over the back of the couch and slide down next to the older man. "What's up?"

"Do you know what I do?" Jordan returned, turning to focus on him with interest.

"Spy, right?" Richard grinned at him.

Jordan nodded, grinning slightly. "I have work on my mind."

"You were being pissy last night," Richard reminded him.

"I got over it," Jordan retorted, rolling his eyes…which hurt somewhat from the lovely black eye his friend had given him. "We do that, you know?"

Richard frowned slightly at that, then shrugged and looked away. "Sorry."

"Same," Jor agreed, sighing heavily. "You okay?"

The kid nodded and frowned. "Mom and Dad are heading back tomorrow…I kinda don't want to go."

"You could stay," Jor noted, considering him, "but I know for me I'm about to start really working…I'm gonna have to go in on time in the mornings…most of my team will be back by the end of the week, so I have to decide if I want to give up on all the stuff we have going on and pull them all back…so I'm not going to be able to keep you around. My shit's all special case, so you can't know details on it."

Richard frowned more.

"Tro's gonna be testing his machines with his guys, and there's no way for you to do more than stand there and watch them after the shit we pulled yesterday…and you never did get in with Wufei. Chance just got hi-jacked into some political crap, so he won't have any spare time…which leaves you with your uncle. I'm not sure if he's got anything serious on the radar or not."

"Just training," Quatre returned, moving from his room. "You should probably go home, huh?" he frowned at his nephew. "I like having you here and stuff, but we're about to head back into the mundane."

The kid frowned more.

"Well," Chai muttered, moving through the front door almost resignedly, "Mom is the same as always."

Jordan frowned at her, extending his arms to her.

"She was bitching at me that she's had no idea where Nick was for the past month," Chai explained, sliding onto her husband's lap and collapsing there. "And then Lars started in on me about my marrying the wrong man."

"If I'm the wrong man, does he think Traumer was the right one?" Jordan asked dryly. The younger of his two brothers-in-law was annoying, true, but he'd built up a tolerance.

Chai sighed, shifting more into his arms.

"Sorry," Jor muttered, kissing the top of her head and holding her tightly to his chest. "That wasn't fair."

"Nick realizes he shouldn't sell that necklace, right?" Quatre asked warily, moving around to see her face. "I don't mean anything against him, but gundanium sells pretty well."

"I think he'll keep it," she returned, frowning slightly. "He knows it's what's keeping everything away…and when I'm not there and it's still working he'll probably trust it more."

"You are special," Quatre mused almost to himself, running a hand through her hair before starting into the kitchen.

Richard studied Jordan's face as the man rested back where he sat, then looked after his uncle. When the man was out of sight, he focused back on Jordan. "That doesn't bother you?"

"What?" Jor asked blankly, meeting his eyes. "Does what bother me?"

"My uncle just totally touched your wife," Richard retorted.

"Yes, he did," Jordan agreed, nonplussed. "What's your point?"

"Most men don't like that."

"Most men aren't as good in bed as me."

Chai started laughing and hit him in the chest as she sat up.

Jordan grinned innocently at her, then grinned at the slightly embarrassed teen.

"The only person who'd bother him for touching me is Trowa," Chai noted to the boy with a wink. "I don't know _why_ it's Trowa, but it is." She started for the kitchen.

"Trowa would totally try to screw her," Jordan informed the youth happily. "He'd so totally try to seduce her…and I've never gotten confirmation that I'm better in bed than him."

Quatre and Chai both started laughing.

Jordan grinned more at the boy, then stood and stretched.

His family was home, it wasn't fair to them for him to brood.

- -

**February 14, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 2 pm**

"You need to take care," Raul muttered quietly to Xane in English, studying his eyes seriously. "You're out of time."

"Shut-up," Xane returned, shaking his hand. Raul gave him a pointed sort of look. "Take care of yourself, I'm protected in this set-up, you're not."

"Kody?" Juan asked with an almost uncertain catch in his voice.

"I'm coming," Raul returned, shaking hands with Chao as well. "Take care, you two."

Chao smiled back, stepping back to grab Xane's hands as the men disappeared into the airplane.

"You gonna hang out at my place a while after we get back?" Juan muttered to Raul as they waved out the windows at the people on the ground.

"I dunno, I kinda want to hit my apartment," Raul returned, dropping back into his seat.

"Want me to come?" Juan tilted his head with an almost innocent curiosity. "We can…rent movies, order pizza?"

Raul met his eyes, then grinned slightly at him. "Sure…sounds like a plan."

Juan grinned happily at that, then turned and bounced back to his seat to buckle.

"I've got the clear," Nhean noted to them from up front. "Are we ready?"

"I'm missing my stripper," Raul returned, looking around.

The man flashed him a wicked grin, sitting back properly.

"If you really _really_ want a stripper…" Juan started.

Raul gave him a look…and Juan grinned innocently at him.

- -

**February 14, A.C. 205. Base. 2 am**

"We're going in, sir," Riley noted as she stood with the Chinese strike-force.

"Keep him alive, Mae," Jordan noted from where he was standing on his front porch with a cigarette between his lips. "That's not just an order. If I lose my second…"

"Maxwell," Riley said levelly, "don't offend me. I would no more lose Featihl than I would Duvall."

"Just get your job done," he snapped…and closed the phone.

It was going to be a _great_ Valentine's Day with _this_ hanging over his head.

- -

**February 14, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 6 pm**

"Aren't we going home soon?" Xane muttered tiredly to Chao from where he'd been sitting on a couch in the man's office. "I'm tired…"

"I'm sorry," Chao returned, looking up at him. "I have another call…then we can go."

Xane sighed heavily, looking back out the window.

He was scared.

He had _no_ idea how the hell he was supposed to get out of China without losing lives. He couldn't break-up with the man, because then the man could very well call for his death or threaten him into staying with him… He could only think of running…and that would not end _well_…

There was a loud grinding sound from outside, and Chao looked toward the windows in alarm.

"What is that?" Xane asked, though his skin was crawling.

A hanger was opening…_the_ hanger was opening.

Chao jumped from his seat, darting for the door to the room as the noise level of alarm spread.

"Fuck," Xane whispered, darting after the man.

Had Raul? Had Jordan? Maybe Riley? Who'd told that the suits were in the hanger? Was that really working in their favor? Where was Shire?

Chaoxiang typed the pass-code into the keypad in that hall as men came running up, jumping up to hit the button to keep the door open…and they darted into the hanger.

"What do we have here?" a colonel muttered as they spilled into the main hanger area…the man was looking up at the three suits, then turned his head to look at the men who'd followed Chao.

Riley was standing behind him in a uniform, her eyes moving over the crowd.

"Fuck…" Xane muttered again, looking to the suits, then around at the soldiers filing into the room with weapons.

"Shut-up," Chao snapped at him, then looked up to the suits with a feigned display of shock.

"Xu Chaoxiang," the colonel said calmly, "you are under arrest."

"For what!?" Chao protested in dismay, looking back to the man.

He got a very level look in response…then the colonel turned and gestured at the men. "Arrest everyone in the building…now."

The soldiers started moving as a massive amount of people turned to run toward the main building.

"Chris…" Chao muttered, turning to him and pulling him in close…and kissing him deeply. "I love you."

"I love you," Xane whispered back, blinking at the man…as Riley moved forward and yanked Xane back to start cuffing him…reading him his rights…

Chao wasn't fighting the men cuffing him…and neither were his cohorts…but his eyes never left Xane's face.

- -

**February 14, A.C. 205. Fuzhou, China. 9 pm**

"And why do you expect us to believe that Chris Torwin is innocent in all of this?" the officer demanded of Chao in disbelief. "He was _living_ with you."

"He was…but…he had nothing to do with the operations." Chao looked out the window tiredly. "He was…just…with me."

"So what do you want us to do?" the man asked dryly. "He was in the building with you. We're going to have to charge him the same as the rest of you."

"No!" Chao protested, coming partially up from his seat. "He had nothing to do with it! He was just _with_ me!"

"In the building?"

"No! He's my lover!" Chao looked very irritated.

The man blinked at him.

"He's innocent," Chao persisted.

"Then it looks like he won't be charged," the man muttered, looking toward the windows himself.

Chao sighed in relief.

"Please, excuse me," the man noted, turning toward the door. "I need to spread the news," he turned his head to look back the man. "Make no mistake. Chris Torwin will not be charged…but he will be deported."

Chao started to his feet again in dismay…and the man shut the door behind himself.

- -

Xane looked tiredly up from his cup of coffee as another man entered the room. "Well?"

"Oh, he's cleared Chris Torwin of all plausible charges…aside from living with him," the man explained happily. "He didn't actually say anything when I said he'd be deported."

Xane looked away again.

"All right," Riley muttered, moving into the room from the next one. "Let's go, Featihl."

Xane sighed and rose to his feet.

"Make a scene and break in there to tell him goodbye," Riley added, considering his face a moment. "We'll come pull you out and put you back in cuffs."

Xane nodded and settled himself where he stood…then darted forward and slammed into the room.

"Chris!" Chao muttered, jumping up.

"Torwin!" someone shouted from behind.

"They're deporting me," Xane informed him, flying into his arms.

"That's what they said…" Chao started.

Xane leaned up and kissed him…as Riley yanked him back from the man.

"Let's go, Torwin."

"Wait…" Xane protested, pulling away again and leaning up to kiss him once more. "Goodbye…"

Riley pulled him back again in irritation…and snapped him in cuffs. She shook her head as Chao stepped forward, then shoved Xane out the door as the officer slammed it shut behind him.

Xane marched like that down the hall a ways until they were near the exit, then Riley uncuffed him again and they stepped into a lobby. He sighed heavily. "What now?"

"Now we get your shit," Riley retorted, "then we go home."

Xane frowned, looking back to her. "He said Wednesday."

"You just got arrested and deported from China, Chris," she noted dryly. "We're going home."

Xane gave her a very upset look, then sighed and nodded…and followed her from the building.


	42. 42

— 42 —

**February 15, A.C. 205. Airport. 1 am**

Xane looked up tiredly as they turned the corner, and met eyes with Jordan. A vast sense of relief washed over him as he trudged forward with Riley on his heels.

"You okay?" Jordan muttered as they bumped shoulders.

"I'm tired, Jordan," Xane returned quietly. "I'm really tired."

Riley met Jordan's eyes, then looked away.

"Let's get the luggage and get out of here," Jor suggested.

Xane nodded, heading for the stairs to the lower level. It didn't take them long to reach the area, but the luggage hadn't actually been dropped yet. Xane leaned back against Jordan, realizing vaguely that he'd known the man would be there.

"That was a damn long flight," Riley muttered with a sigh, rubbing at her neck. "You know, we thought it was gonna be harder than that to get you out," she added, looking to Xane sidelong. "We were worried about shoot-outs."

"Huh," Xane returned almost distantly. "I was expecting one too, truth be told…when we all came down there…but you took them off guard. No one expected it."

"That was the point," Riley noted wryly. "We figured we'd have more a chance of getting you if they weren't prepared."

"How did you know I was there?"

"I went to your apartment and got no answer…got in and looked around and saw nothing," she shrugged. "I ran down to your work and they said your boyfriend had picked you up when your shift was over…and that meant you two had either run off together for Valentine's, or you were over the river."

He nodded, turning more into Jordan.

He was still unsettled. Xane hadn't been ready for that quick of an end. He'd been in China for…two and a half months…but he'd gotten _so_ embroiled with Chao that it'd seemed a lifetime. He hadn't known how he'd end it with only a few days left, and Raul showing up like he had hadn't helped Xane in the slightest.

He never wanted to get that emotionally involved again.

It hurt.

Xane started rubbing at his shoulders, then tensed very slightly when Jordan started to rub at his upper-back. He relaxed into the touch after a moment, resting even more against his superior.

"We aren't alone," Riley reminded them quietly, looking between them as the alarm sounded to announce the bags were starting down.

Xane stepped away from Jordan without looking at him, focusing on the chute hopefully. Their bags _would_ be first. Part of their set-up was the priority privileges.

He was damn ready to get back to base.

- -

**February 15, A.C. 205. Base. 11 am**

"So what do you think?" Jordan muttered, taking another bite as he studied Chance's face. They were sitting in the Canteen with Xane.

"If it's taken this long…what six months?" Chance muttered, looking between them. "Judas has been there a damn long while…and he's only up to Holt? It's taking too long and risking too much of his sanity…and with Shire shut-down the way he is, Raul won't get anymore information from his cohorts." The man glanced to Xane a moment with his eyes, then started eating again.

"Jude got damn far, damn fast," Jordan argued.

"But he's not getting any further," Chance argued back, gesturing with his fork. "You got the lot numbers…you know who took the weapons and where they came from. It can't be _too_ hard to find the man now."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Jordan protested, stopping eating to study his friend's face. "You seem to forget that I had them spun to _find_ him."

"Yeah, to figure _out_ who he was," Chance retorted.

"But Jude can't get any further than he is," Xane protested at the same time. "He'd have to kill off the leaders there are and then it'd be trust issues…if someone didn't kill him instead."

They both looked at him.

"I know Chao and them were poster-boys for this shit, but it's not much better anywhere else…at least I can't imagine it. It seemed that way everywhere I went."

"So you think I should bring Raul and Judas back?" Jordan asked, considering that as he stirred his noodles again. He had a bowl of soup. "You mean it?"

"I dunno, Jor," Xane muttered, poking his own bowl half-heartedly. "I mean…he's getting somewhere…or he was."

"He called me yesterday," Jordan noted, looking back to Chance. "He said that two of his guys are going home for sure and one of them seems to be heading that way."

"Which means his support group is disintegrating," Chance noted, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't that leave him with one man?"

"Yeah…" Jordan agreed, considering that. "The one he actually called when he was here for Christmas."

"And it's not a death certificate to leave like that?" Chance asked, looking to Xane.

"I don't know," Xane admitted. "It was different with Chao and them…they were a lot more heartless than I'd have thought."

Jordan studied him a long moment in silence before exchanging a look with Chance and going back to his food. "I'll see what Chai thinks."

"You're supposed to be the leader," Xane noted, pouring a spoonful of broth back into the bowl.

"No leader is perfect," Jordan reminded him quietly. "I make my mistakes just like everyone else; I just work damn hard to make sure no one notices them."

Xane grinned at that, meeting his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Jordan asked, stirring his soup as he almost met his second's eyes. "Are you seriously all right?"

"I will be," Xane reassured him, stirring his own bowl. "I know I'm a cloud of doom right now, but…we got damn close over the last two weeks…and even then, when he was under arrest and had all sorts of charges leveled at him, he wasn't arguing for himself, you know? He was just insisting that I had nothing to do with any of it."

"He probably wanted to make sure you were in the clear," Chance suggested, "before focusing on his own defense. He was pretty powerful, wasn't he?"

"Marginally," Xane agreed wryly.

"That was meant as an understatement," Jordan informed Chance happily. "Chao was a psycho tyrant."

"He wasn't psycho," Xane sighed.

"At least not in the two weeks he was your boyfriend," Jordan reminded him pointedly. "You saw his file just the same as me, you know he pulled some shit."

Xane looked out the window.

"Listen," Jordan said quietly, leaning over so he was at the other's face level. "I sent you there to get me information…not to fall for the guy."

Xane turned his head sharply to meet eyes.

"You did your job and you did it well," Jordan reassured him, patting his leg as he sat up again. "You…just need to never do that again."

"Like I intended to to begin with," Xane muttered, starting to eat.

"Keep the cloud from slitting his wrists," Jordan ordered Chance, rising to his feet. He hesitated, though, raising his bowl and draining the broth from it. "I need to go hunt down my wife and get some opinions from her and I don't want him left alone," he indicated Xane, then took a bite of the noodles, then another. He shook his head in a visual display of enjoyment, then pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bills by Chance before turning and leaving the building.

"I may be preaching to the choir," Chance noted, looking back to the younger male, "but I think he's a little annoyed with you."

"I could care, I suppose," Xane muttered, taking another bite.

"You gonna try running off on me?" Chance asked curiously.

"No," Xane replied, starting to poke at his food again. "I don't actually want to be alone right now."

"Good, makes it easy," Chance noted, shoving his empty bowl aside and collecting Jordan's. "Damn I love these noodles…"

- -

**February 15, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

Trowa was in the kitchen when Wufei moved into their apartment, and he glanced back at his friend before nodding a greeting.

"Hey," Wufei returned, dropping into a chair at the table. "I don't suppose there's enough food there for me, is there?"

"I dunno, what you gonna give me if there is?" Trowa returned.

"I dunno…what do you want?"

Trowa snorted.

"What's up, anyway?" Wufei added. "I haven't seen you around much lately."

"I've been doing my normal day job," Trowa returned, turning his head to meet the other's eyes. "You're the one who's busy all the time. What _are_ you doing?"

"Morris is looking for a DNA link for the empathy," Wufei returned with a shrug. "Me and Mor've been trying to help him with that…so we've been talking to the families of the empaths who were in the study. Did you know that like…seventy-five percent of those families have a younger child as a quieting?"

Trowa stopped, turning to look at him in amazement.

"About half of all of'em have stories of a relative who seemed to be an empath before it was recognized as an issue…and most of the families hail from the early colony babies."

"That's…how the hell, in a few months, have you figured _all_ of that out?" Trowa turned to face him properly.

Wufei smiled at him and shrugged. "We earned a damn lot of trust by figuring out the block…" he sighed sadly, propping his head against one hand. "I just wish it'd been me who figured it out, and not Chance and his damn wedding-ring."

"Hey," Trowa reassured him, turning back to the food. "If you hadn't been performing the study, we wouldn't have been in there with empaths and Chance would have never got himself stuck like that. You get the credit."

"Because he gives it to me," Wufei noted with a sigh. "Oh well…that doesn't matter. I helped Quatre, right?"

"I'm not sure if that was really for the better," Trowa noted dryly, pulling plates from the cupboard.

Wufei smiled at that, then looked around the cupboards. The kitchen was huge compared to what he and Trowa would _really_ need.

"Do you suppose Chai was able to make it stop because her brother, then?" Trowa added, splitting the food he'd made between the two plates. "I mean…doesn't it figure that she's special because he is?"

Wufei sat up, blinking at him.

"Did you even _talk_ to him while he was here?"

"I…said hi…I mean…" Wufei was still staring at him.

"What?"

"I didn't even _think_ of that," Wufei admitted, then dropped forward against the table. "Damn it…"

"What?"

"Chance fixes the problem and you suggest a better test subject…_why_ am I doing this, again?"

"Because you care," Trowa retorted, setting the plate down and dropping across from the man at the table. "We work as a unit for a reason, Fei."

"I hate how big this house is," Wufei decided, considering the substance in front of him. "What…is this?"

Trowa gave him a mildly offended look and started eating without response.

"What do you think?" he added as he also started to eat. "Maybe we can get a house for us, huh? Or do you want to live alone?"

"_Fuck_ no!" Trowa looked up to him in offense. "Are you joking? I _hate_ being alone! And you're always gone!"

Wufei blinked at the vehemence behind the words.

Trowa started poking at his food, focusing on it completely.

"Are you all right?" Wufei asked, studying him seriously.

"Funny that you notice _now_," Trowa retorted, starting to eat again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…nevermind," Trowa shook his head, then moved to the cupboard. "You want something to drink?"

Wufei studied him warily a moment, then nodded very slightly.

He had a feeling he'd missed something important…but he wasn't sure what it was.

- -

**February 15, A.C. 205. Base. 5 pm**

Xane slumped onto his bed in his empty apartment, staring at the ceiling a long moment before realizing he needed to unpack. Jordan had already set in motion bringing Judas and Raul home, so that meant he wouldn't be sent out any time soon. He slid off his bed and stared at his duffel bag a long moment before unzipping it slowly…and remembering why he'd been avoiding opening it.

Chao had gotten him a present.

Xane studied package wrapped in royal blue with silver ribbon, then lifted it from the bag to study the other man's handwriting.

_To my love…from Chaoxiang._

He snorted slightly at that, plucking more at the ribbon.

The present wasn't the only thing Chao had gotten for him, either. On top of the box had been two tickets to a show…a cirque du soleil that Xane had noticed posters for around town. When he and Riley had entered the apartment, the box had been sitting on the table…and in the room on the bed had been a few white roses and a clothing box…which turned out to be another pair of the slacks Chao'd tried to get him to wear more often with a shirt…

As soon as he'd gotten home, Xane had taken the one rose he'd claimed and hung it upside down under a heating vent to dry it…and in that process had realized how much more the man had meant to him than he'd even been admitting to himself.

That was why the present wasn't opened, that was why the bag wasn't unpacked.

That was why Xane had broken the law.

The guy swallowed slightly to himself as he pulled the ribbon off the box and studied the paper with a slight smile…he was very happy Chao hadn't written "Chris" on the tag, because then the effect would have died entirely.

It was a fairly deep square box, whatever it was…and Xane was glad he hadn't actually picked something up for the other…because there wasn't much of a chance that he'd get it anyway.

He pulled the paper off the thing carefully, studying the hinged box inside it with interest. Satisfied that it wasn't the store-bought original box, he opened it carefully…and sighed, looking to the ceiling.

Inside the lid of the box was an eight by ten picture of Chao sitting on some cement stairs in something of a butterfly position with a few white roses on the ground between his legs, extending one up to the camera with that happy smile…

Why did he have to love a fucking criminal? There was no way in hell that was fair to himself _or_ to Chao…

Chao would have stood near him uncertainly as he opened it, and smiled abashedly at the picture while he fiddled with the various rings he wore or the sheath for his pinky-nail.

It was a necklace…a simple and clean braided gold chain…

Xane set the box on the floor in front of him and pressed his palm against his forehead.

Who would have ever thought the one Valentine's Day that could have been perfect was one that would never happen? They would have gone to supper, then to the cirque…then back to the apartment and made love before drifting off to sleep close together…

He _never_ wanted to do that again…that'd been _damn_ hard…leaving Chao under arrest on Valentine's Day, leaving China like a deported tourist…leaving behind a safe and happy relationship built on lies.

Maybe it was better that it ended that way…maybe Chao would never realize that the man 'Chris Torwin' was as fake as any character on the television screen. Maybe their brief time together would bring the other happiness…fond memories.

And somehow, maybe…maybe Chao would find out that there were only four roses left at the apartment when he'd bought five…and maybe he'd see that one of those tickets was missing…and maybe he'd appreciate the fact that Xane had stolen his note-book full of past jobs…and that Xane had also taken a large wad of the drug-money that would have been used in court as severe evidence of his pastimes…and maybe he'd understand that Xane had taken his unregistered pistol so they didn't realize just _how_ many people he'd shot.

Xane rubbed at his eyes as his stomach churned.

Those pieces of evidence in his possession would be enough to land him in jail. He needed to take the pistol to Lower Angels and sell it…he'd dropped a large portion of the money in a charity collection bin and spent some of it…and had changed the last of it to American currency before the flight. He'd smuggled the pistol on himself…and Riley hadn't even thought twice about him digging through the notebooks to find the one he wanted…the one that would have screwed Chao over entirely.

Why had he done it? How could he do that to the police officers who wanted nothing but justice? To the government who hadn't had the proper resources to take down a drug-lord? The questions had haunted him the entire flight home as the gun slowly warmed against his skin and Riley chattered on incessantly about pointless dribble…and then seeing Jordan standing there…Jordan, tall and proud, self confident and caring…when Jordan had started to massage his back he'd realized then and there _why_ he'd risked his career…his mission…Jordan's own credibility.

He'd fallen in love with Xu Chaoxiang…who knew if it would have lasted more than a month if it hadn't been interrupted. Who knew if Chao himself wouldn't have fallen out of the feeling in that same time…it didn't matter, because everything had been stopped.

Xane ran his fingers along the chain, studying the picture of the man without picking the package back up.

If Jordan ever found out…if he ever knew the full extent of it…

The thought made his second shiver and go cold…how angry would Jordan become? Would he deny Xane his affection? _Could_ he?

Xane wasn't sure which was really worse…never seeing Chao again or disappointing Jordan.

_That_ duplicity made his stomach churn even harder so he jumped to his feet and stumbled into his bathroom to dry heave over the toilet until the acid burned his throat and mouth…

He was going to hide that picture and that ticket with the gun and the notebook, then go to Jordan's.

He didn't think he could _stand_ being alone.

- -

E/N: thanks for the review, Cara! ...oi, i hate writer's block, I really truly do. Sorry about this, guys, I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to get more written...bear with me, please! hehe.


	43. 43

— 43 —

**February 16, A.C. 205. Weis, Austria. 1 pm**

"I don't understand," Holt muttered quietly, studying Judas in concern. "Am I not paying you enough?"

"It's not a money thing," Judas returned, looking away. "My family…you understand?"

The man sighed heavily, rubbing at his temples as he looked to the table he was sitting at.

"I'm sorry," Judas added, inclining his head respectfully. "I never meant to do this, but I can't stay away from home like this anymore."

"I'll think it over," the man noted, raising irritated eyes to Judas'.

Judas studied him a long moment, then smirked very slightly at him. He nodded once, then turned and left the dining hall for his own room. He kept his pace casual until he'd moved onto the second floor, then he outright _sprinted_ for the room he and Alek were sharing.

"What's…going on?" Alek asked blankly, looking up from where he…was packing his bag.

"Good, we're leaving out the back door," Judas muttered, stopping as he noticed is own bag was already packed.

How had Alek known?

"What did he say?" Alek asked, studying Judas with wide eyes.

"He said he'd think about it, meaning he's going to kill me. You ready?"

"Get me my jacket and I will be," Alek returned, looking the room over as he zipped his duffel.

"Let's fly then, little birdie," Judas returned, tossing the thing to the man and grabbing his bag.

Judas was grateful that Rasmus, Victor, and Kiel had all left together. Their leaving hadn't even stirred the waters.

It was Judas who Holt had wanted, and Judas who Holt had gotten. If he couldn't have him, no one else would, and if he were leaving, it was the same as defecting.

Aleksander tossed his key to the room on the counter, which Judas quickly did as well, pulling the door open and looking up and down the hall.

He had no idea how long it'd take Holt to send men after him.

There was no one in sight, so the pair turned quickly left and darted to the stairs. They moved quietly down the things, listening intently as they went. They could hear voices, laughing people…quiet conversations…nothing distinguished from the crowd.

"I'm going with you," Alek informed Judas as they moved onto the second floor set of stairs. "I'm going wherever you're going."

"You _can't_," Judas hissed back.

"I can, I will, and I am," Alek snapped, hesitating by the exit to glower at Judas. "Give me one good reason I can't."

Judas studied him in amusement a moment, then pulled out his wallet and dug his I.E.C. card from the back of it to show the man.

Alek stared at the thing with slowly rounding eyes.

"I'll get you a ticket home at the port," Judas added, tucking the thing back away. "I'll give you money for your car, too."

"What?" Alek shook himself out of the stupor. "What are you talking about?"

"We aren't taking the car," Judas replied easily. "You don't have anything in it, do you?"

"No, I knew we might have to run before I started this shit, so I don't leave shit in it…I'm going with you."

"I just _told_ you…" Judas started.

"Bullshit," Alek cut him off, glowering at him. "They'll kill me if I stay behind. You had me with you too much. They'll assume I know where you are."

"I can't take you back to California," Judas hissed irritably at him.

"Holy shit, you're an agent," Alek whispered back, thinking the information over, then stopping and glaring at the other. "I'm going with you."

The way he said it suggested to Judas that if he didn't comply, the man would go run to Holt then and there.

He shook his head irritably and moved from the stairwell. They didn't say anything as they went, looking around nervously. No one really noticed them as they headed toward a side-exit, which they used normally anyway.

"Hey," Alek whispered, yanking back on Judas' arm so the man stepped back from the exit. "Look," he added, pointing.

Judas followed his gaze to Holt, who had just gestured a man to him and started muttering in a confidential way, pointing up the levels of the building. The man he was speaking to looked startled, then muttered something else, which got a nod.

"Let's go," Judas snapped, dragging Alek from the building.

Alek tossed the keys to his car onto the hood, patting the top of it with a sigh, then looked to Judas. "Well? What now, spy?"

"Now we run like fucking bunnies," Judas retorted, starting toward the nearest building.

They'd have just enough time to clear the parking lot before the man reached the upper floor and looked out the window.

"I got the impression that fucking bunnies weren't running bunnies," Alek noted helpfully. "And I thought I was a birdie."

Judas cast him a severely dirty look, and started to run.

- -

**February 16, A.C. 205. Vladivostok, Russia. 3 pm**

"So how can I get ahold of you?" Raul asked Juan happily as he moved back into the main room of his apartment.

"Calling works," Juan returned…he was a little high. He'd been a little…or a lot…high since Raul had told him he was leaving. "You know how to use the vid, right?"

"Long distance vid calling…you're awesome."

The guy laughed almost a giggle.

"Seriously, though," Raul added, taking a bite of the cinnamon roll he'd gathered from the kitchen. "Or should we not bother?"

"What?" Juan's expression changed from that happiness to immediately upset as he shifted to sit on his knees and looked into Raul's face.

Raul hadn't entirely expected that abrupt a change, but he wasn't really used to dealing with high people, and Juan was special on the best of days.

"I just…you have to call me…and…" he started muttering in…a Hakka dialect.

"What?" Raul asked him blankly, studying his face. "That's not making any sense…speak Russian…shit," he added, switching to English. "Speak English."

Juan laughed his high-laugh again, running a hand down his face. "I just…" he thought a second, then looked up. "You call me," he said in English…with a severe accent. "You call me, you tell me you there…and I call you."

Raul considered that a long moment, dropping onto the couch. "I take that back. Talk to me in Russian."

Juan laughed again, leaning over to drop his head onto Raul's leg with a heavy sigh. "You call me, right?" he asked in Russian. "You call me, I get your number…and then I'll call you. My bill, not yours." He sighed. "Then when you get tired of me you don't have to answer and I'll know."

"What?" Raul asked blankly.

"Hm?" Juan turned his head to look up at him. "I thought you knew Russian pretty good."

"Did you just say when I'm tired of you I just don't answer?"

Juan looked away.

Raul sighed tiredly, running his hand through Juan's hair.

Why was he the one with the rich and needy boy? Boys were Xane's department…hell, even Judas coulda handled a boy-toy better than he could…he didn't know what to say to this shit. …he _was_ a guy…

"It's okay," Juan muttered quietly, drowsily. "Everyone gets tired of me in the end."

Raul thought he'd fallen asleep and was about to relax back to let the guy nap when Juan's head came up again. "Hm?" he asked, noting a sort of begging look in the man's eyes.

"Sleep with me," Juan said, climbing up to straddle him. "Sleep with me…I'm good in bed, you'll see…" he leaned in to kiss Raul.

"Hey," Raul pushed him back slightly. "Don't do that."

"No," Juan half-begged. "I'm real…I'm…I'm serious," he shook his head slightly, trying to lean in again. "Pleas, Kody? Kodiak? Please?"

"No, Juan," Raul protested, shoving him back again, nearly smashing his cinnamon roll into him before he thought about it. It wasn't the first time the guy had made the suggestion, and Raul didn't think it had much to do with actual lust.

"Kodiak…" he started to protest, then settled back to stare into Raul's eyes with the same expression a kicked puppy would have.

"I'm not into guys," Raul told him again. "I've told you that…and I mean it."

"But…I'm really good," Juan protested, leaning forward against him. "You'll see…"

"I'll take your word for it," Raul noted dryly. "Come on…get off me."

Juan slid off his lap, folding partially forward to cover his face with his hand.

"Why do you keep doing that, anyway?" Raul protested more at him, trying to draw him out of the shutdown.

The day Jordan had called and told him he had to come home he'd told Juan right away that he'd been offered a job in the states. Juan had pleaded and begged for him not to go before finally throwing himself at Raul. It'd taken him about an hour to be completely gone from the room, even though he was sitting in it. His eyes had been distant, and he hadn't even looked at Raul when the guy had gotten up to get food.

Juan hadn't gone home since they'd arrived in Vladivostok. He'd initially been muttering about getting a hotel room, but he'd fallen asleep on the couch and after Raul had settled down he'd climbed into the bed with him.

"You'll come back to me if you sleep with me," Juan explained after a long silence, meeting Raul's eyes. "You'll stay with me."

Raul felt very sorry for the man…it almost hurt him to see how utterly un-confident he was, despite his money and the power he wielded.

"I know I'll be a long way away," he protested, gesturing with his snack, "but that doesn't mean we won't see each other again."

Juan looked away, unconvinced.

"Come on," Raul protested, thinking quickly. "You wanna know something? My real name is Raul."

The guy turned to focus on him in complete confusion. The fact was enough to startle him out of his pout.

"Yeah, Kody is just something I picked up for around here…I thought it might be easier to get the guns if I were like a local."

"Where did Kodiak come from, then?" the guy asked blankly, studying him seriously. "And come on…my name is _Juan_…and I'm Taiwanese."

Raul flashed him a grin and shrugged.

"Why did you even need guns, anyway? Why are you going to America?"

"I know a guy who needs'em in a big way," Raul noted, gesturing vaguely inland. "I thought I'd make some quick cash while I waited to see if my application for America would go through."

"You do this often?" Juan muttered, shifting back to the cushion next to him.

"Never had, but had a buddy who said it wasn't hard," he shrugged, picking off more of the roll.

Juan sniggered slightly, focusing on the food himself…and leaned forward to take the piece from his fingers…and lick them in the process.

"Damn it!" Raul pulled his hands away, not quite disgusted. "Can you _not_ do that?"

Juan started laughing, licking his lips as he studied Raul's expression. "I want one."

"Then get one, you're not helpless," Raul retorted, rising to his feet and moving into the kitchen area. He set the one he'd been eating off of on top of the package and moved to wash his hands.

"I knew you'd wash your hands," Juan noted almost coyly. "Get me one? You're in there…"

Raul turned to give him a look.

"R-a-u-l…" the guy opened his eyes very wide as he said it.

"Only if you promise not to do that again," Raul retorted, drying his hands and recollecting his snack.

"I promise," Juan agreed happily.

Raul rolled his eyes slightly and dug another from the package out, passing it to the guy as he sat again. He didn't mind too badly that Juan wanted to be touched as much as he did. It was sort of endearing, really…but the rest of it was a bit out of his interest range.

"Thanks," Juan muttered in his Hakka dialect…he'd said it before and explained it the first time. His eyes were sparkling, though, as he studied Raul's face.

"What?" Raul asked levelly, grabbing the remote.

"I break my promises," Juan explained happily, then just as happily stuck some of the treat in his own mouth.

"Next time you do it, I'll deck ya, simple as that," Raul noted in English, flicking the television on.

"Hahaha," Juan pouted, but slid up to sit against Raul's side…

"…the arrest of Xu Chaoxiang…"

Juan's attention instantly snapped onto the television.

"What?" Raul whispered, like he hadn't been the one to set it in motion.

"…'s apartment was searched thoroughly today for any further evidence to use against the supposed drug-lord."

"Oh my god," Juan whispered, no longer seeming high.

"It will take the researchers a few days to sift through all of the material gathered, and meanwhile, prosecutors are trying to find definitive information on person or persons who had intended to buy the black-market mobile suits. Xu had this to say…"

The screen flashed to a previously recorded image of Chao, looking very tired and worn. "I had a guest," he said simply. "My guest had nothing to do with the suits, but to save that guest from further un-wanted attention, the name is not available…"

Well, the subtitles on the bottom of the screen said something like that. Chao'd been speaking Chinese.

"Similar testimony was given on the matter from the other four alleged…"

"Nhean?"

Raul looked to Juan, who had his cell phone at his ear.

"Destroy the plane…try not to get attention to it and get rid of it entirely. Make sure Shire's not on the island anymore, either…what? No…no…Chao's been arrested…wonder what his little fuck-buddy thinks of that…"

Mouthy? Mouthy wasn't in the best of ways, really. According to Maxwell, Mouthy was some mythical god that no one but Chance would have gotten the reference to.

"Yeah…no, I'm coming home tonight…huh? No, he's going to America," Juan's eyes traveled back to Raul as he sighed, then looked away. "I know…no. No…that's not your business. Whatever, just get rid of the damn thing and wipe the phone records." He made a few more listening sort of noises, then hung up and looked back to Raul.

"I wonder how Chris _is_," Raul muttered, focusing back on the screen.

"…Torwin was deported on Monday."

"Ha!" Juan started laughing delightedly at that, then turned to meet Raul's eyes. "If you see that fucker back in America…tell him from me, tell him I said I'm damn close if he gets the conjugal visits!"

Raul raised an eyebrow at him.

"He was from America, wasn't he?" Juan asked, misunderstanding the look.

"That's what he said, yeah," Raul agreed. "America is kind of big, though."

"Oh, whatever," the man waved it off, then started plucking off another bit of the cinnamon roll before stopping and looking at his watch as his shoulders drooped.

"What?" Raul asked, blinking at him.

He was _way_ too damn moody.

Juan set the cinnamon roll on the coffee table and climbed into Raul's lap, curling up against his chest as he pressed his face into the guy's shirt. "Raul?"

"What?" Raul asked, not sure what to do about this.

"Don't forget about me?" he asked, raising his eye to Raul's face again.

"I doubt I could if I tried," Raul noted, ruffling his hair in vague amusement. "Can you not climb on me, please?"

Juan pressed his face back into Raul's chest. "Everyone forgets about me eventually." He pulled away to meet Raul's eyes again. "You want me to buy you something? Anything at all?"

Raul sighed heavily to himself and wrapped his arms around the smaller male tightly, holding him as he considered what he'd gathered about the guy.

The only ways he could hold attention were through sex or his money…and evidently those things didn't hold through for very long. He soaked up what attention was spared him like a sponge, and he was probably so desperate to get a hook in Raul because Raul had been offering that attention without ulterior motives.

Juan's hands wrapped into Raul's shirt like they did at night, or any other time when he allowed the guy in that close.

"I won't forget you, Juan, all right?"

"Really?" he asked.

"I told you, I don't think I could," Raul reminded him teasingly. "I mean…you're Taiwanese and your name is _Juan_."

Juan laughed at that, pulling away to studying his face…and leaned in like he'd kiss him. Raul turned away enough that it was obvious he didn't want that, and Juan pulled away with a sigh, dropping back properly onto the couch. "Why do you care?" he asked quietly, looking away again.

_Way_ too damn moody.

Raul studied the guy, then smirked slightly and raised an eyebrow in response. "Do I have to have a reason? Really?"


	44. 44

— 44 —

**February 17, A.C. 205. Weis, Austria. 1 am**

"Thank you for your assistance, Sir," Judas muttered, formally saluting the colonel. "We should be fine from here."

They'd decided that having the man stay with them risked Holt finding out Judas was an agent and hunting down Victor and the rest for retribution.

"Of course, Ifhera," the man returned, saluting in return and briefly shaking Alek's hand. "Have a safe flight."

Judas nodded, watching as the man turned and walked away at a brisk pace.

"I have never been so terrified in my life," Alek informed Judas seriously.

"What?" Judas asked him blankly.

"You had me _in_ a military compound!" Alek retorted, giving him a disbelieving look. "If you hadn't forgotten, we've spent the last several months…"

"Shh," Judas ordered him, nonplussed.

Alek looked away.

"Here," Judas added, pulling out an envelope from his jacket and digging through it. He pulled out a handful of bills and offered them to the man. "This should cover your flight and your car."

Alek frowned, taking the money and looking up to him in confusion.

"I told you I'd get you a ticket here, but I'm not going to make you go anywhere…you can choose your own destination." He leaned forward and hugged the guy briefly. "Try to get out of this life-style," he suggested. "You can get a real job…it's not like you're addicted to drugs or something stupid like that."

"Where are you going?" Alek muttered, considering him with interest.

"Inado," Judas returned, turning to look around the port. "Inado California. It's where I base out of."

"How much will that cost?" Alek asked, tagging along as he started up the walk.

"I'm not entirely sure," Judas shrugged. "I can just use my card to get the flight and my superior will pay it for me."

It was strange to be able to talk freely about that. It was weird to think that Alek knew exactly where he was going and who he was. After they'd left their hotel, Judas had waved down a taxi and told them to take him to the I.E.C. compound…and then he'd had to do some fast-talking to get Alek into the safe zone with him. They'd taken rooms initially to nap in, since they'd had a late night and hadn't gotten much sleep, then they'd eaten before Judas started getting the guys to go look through the city for their pursuers. Nothing had been reported as a disturbance, and the colonel had flooded the airport with soldiers…more like saturated it. He'd send in one or two at a time…as many as six, it had taken a while, but the soldiers were set up all over the port with the specific aim of keeping Judas and Alek alive if some sharpshooter happened to find them.

They moved up to the counter as a smiling receptionist greeted Judas…and Alek leaned against the desk next to his friend as he wondered if he'd be able to pull it off or not.

He'd said he'd follow. He intended to follow…and it was made that much _more_ plausible when the woman noted the flight Judas was booking still had several seats if they needed two…which Judas denied.

Alek grinned slightly at that.

"All right," Judas muttered, leaning over to hug Alek again. "Take care of yourself…I'll try to call you if I'm in the area again…keep your head low so no one shoots you, right? Tell Vic and them I'm sorry, too."

Alek nodded, hugging him again and watching him walk away.

"How can I help you?" the woman asked him happily.

"I need one of those seats on that flight," Alek returned, pointing after his friend.

She gave him a confused sort of look, but accepted the words without comment.

- -

The forty minutes before the flight left were quiet for Judas. He was unsettled by leaving Alek like that, even with the extra security around the port, and the fact that the guy hadn't seemed to really care they were separating bugged him, too.

Not to mention that he was going home…for _real_. He didn't have to go back to Germany or Austria…Switzerland…none of the places he'd been in for the past six months…at least, not for this mission, anyway. He wasn't sure what his superior intended to do with him in the future, but the idea of staying on base with his comrades was highly appealing…not having to pretend was highly appealing.

He shook his head, pulling out his laptop and booting it up. He needed to write up his report and the reasoning behind him using the resources of Weis for himself and a civilian. He typed up the report carefully, being sure to note the specific danger to Alek.

He was going to miss his friend, really…it was strange to think of him not being there, and sad to think what might happen since his life in Germany wasn't all that happy.

"Good morning!" a bright-eyed flight-attendant gushed at them, his smile indicating that he knew his chipper humor wouldn't be all that appreciated. "Welcome to Ion Air! We're so glad you could make it to this lovely morning flight with us, and we assure you that we won't be bouncing up and down the isles."

That got a titter.

"Right now I'd like to board all priority passengers…and that means if your ticket has a blue line like this…" he turned a boarding pass to show them all the diagonal line, "then you need to come line up right here." He pointed in front of himself.

Judas moved tiredly forward with the few other people who had the priority setting.

"I'd like to remind our passengers that we have an open seating policy, and we will be boarding the first group after we get the priority fliers settled in. You can begin lining up here, if you would…please have your boarding pass ready…thank you," he added to the older gentlemen Judas had allowed to cut. "Thank you," he added, taking Judas' ticket.

Judas actually hoped he wasn't going to be so bright eyed and chipper the entire flight. That would be disgusting…. "Easy there, old timer," he cautioned, moving to help the older man as he tottered.

"Old timer," the guy grumbled. "When I was your age…"

"You'd be the same rude jackass as me," Judas retorted. The guy might not be happy about it, but he was letting Judas support him. "And when I'm old and tottering and some young buck helps me, I'll tell him he's an ass, too."

The man grinned at that.

"It's the cycle of these things," Judas went on happily as they moved onto the plane. "The youth don't understand how to show respect until they're old, and the fact that the youth still don't understand how it works flies like a lead brick."

The man smiled openly at that one.

Judas grinned at him, looking the plane over. "Where would you like to sit?"

"Here in front," the man muttered, taking his own weight and offering his carry-on to Judas to stow.

Judas was knocked slightly forward, and turned to look at the woman who'd shoved into him before rolling his eyes as another person passed behind him, then focused on shoving the bag up. After he'd finished that, he took his own carry-on and shoved it under the seat next to the old man, sitting down and looking at him. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Do you know, you look an awfully lot like my grandson?" the man noted pleasantly. "I'm going to see him right now. He's in London, says he'll show an old man the sights."

"Sounds like fun," Judas noted, shifting down in his seat. "I've never been to London."

"Me neither, figured I should go before my knees give up on me entirely," the man rubbed at one leg. "I'm tired, son…never get old."

"I'm tired," Judas noted, grinning at him. "I think I'll end up leaving a beautiful corpse, anyway."

"As long as you make it worth your time," the man agreed, laughing slightly. "Just be sure it's worth it, and you won't regret it in the end."

- -

**February 16, A.C. 205. Airport. 9 pm**

Watching Judas move from the gates was something like watching a returning hero. He had a bag over one shoulder, and the gait of a confident man on a mission. His eyes moved to the group instantly…and he smiled.

"Jude!" Riley squeaked, darting forward with Danielle on her heels.

The man was laughing as he dropped his bag to catch the first female, and he turned just enough so Danielle could jump on him as well.

Jordan snorted, grinning at Xane briefly…as Xane's eyes flashed wickedly and he also ran forward…and jumped at the man.

Judas, it seemed, was expecting that, and had dropped both Rile and Danielle a moment before Xane jumped on him. The man was still laughing as he spun to dissipate Xane's motion–Xane had been trying to knock him over–and completely controlled his friend's motion to _toss_ him…at a passer-by.

Alek.

Jordan stepped forward in disbelief as Judas himself froze.

"I'm sorry!" Xane was still laughing as he apologized to the other…then noticed the aire around him. He turned to look at Judas.

"Hi," Alek muttered to him, studying his eyes.

"_Ifhera!_" Jordan snapped, moving forward as the girls looked to him with mildly alarmed expressions. He wasn't really bothered by it, but he wanted to impress on the man thoroughly that he was the superior.

"I didn't do it!" Judas protested instantly, turning to focus on Jordan and look back to the other. "What are you doing here?" he added.

"I told you I was going with you," Alek returned in German. "I told you I meant it and I would. You didn't give me a good enough reason not to."

"What the hell?" Jordan demanded of the spy, giving him an irritated sort of look.

"I didn't!" Judas persisted, turning to look at him. "It wasn't…I…Jor…"

Jordan knew that Judas had not been aware of the man's presence, he was too genuinely shocked for it to be an act.

"Hi," Alek added to Jordan happily, extending a hand. "Nice to see you again."

"I said you need to go home," Judas protested at the man in disbelief. "I have no where for you to stay here! I have…I can't take you on base!"

Alek looked back to him with a mildly upset expression, then looked around to Xane and the girls.

"How did you get here?" Jordan asked the man, considering his eyes.

"I flew," the guy noted wryly, then tilted his head slightly. "You're his superior?"

"I am," Jordan agreed, still studying his face.

"I followed him," Alek noted easily. "He couldn't help it…I didn't let him see me."

"Alek," Judas moved back in front of him. "I can't…I have no where…I…" he gestured around vaguely.

"Hi," Xane bounced forward to offer his hand. "I'm Xane."

"We all just call him Mouthy," Danielle noted happily, moving in to offer her own hand. "I'm Danielle…and that's all I'm called."

"I'm Riley," Riley added happily. "How did you get through customs already?"

"I…was sort of flying with him," Judas noted happily, indicating Judas. "He got his ticket and walked off and I just told the woman I wanted the same one…so we were listed somewhat together."

"I think that's illegal," Jordan noted, considering him happily.

Judas ran a hand down his face, obviously thinking fast.

"Calm down," Jordan suggested, patting the guy's back before pulling him into a brief hug. "You're home now, and he said he did it himself. It's his problem to find somewhere to stay and we can all be nice friends and help him."

"Meaning he'll have you a place by lunch tomorrow," Xane quipped, smiling at Alek. "No worries, but you'll have to find your own job to pay for it."

Alek grinned at him, looking back to Judas.

"I'm just…I…" Judas ran his hand down his face again, then laughed and moved forward to hug the guy. "Ass."

Alek hugged him back, then shifted back to look abashedly at Jordan.

"Let's go get your luggage," Jordan suggested, looking to his watch. "Rau'll be coming in…in like an hour, if that. We can get your buddy a guest pass for the night…we're having a party anyway. We can get a bite to eat, then gather Raul. Don't worry about this tonight," he added, indicating the man. "We can figure it out tomorrow."


	45. 45

— 45 —

**February 19, A.C. 205. Remington, California, United States. 9 am**

"Thank you," Aleksander muttered, shaking hands with the man who had just hired him. "Thank you very much."

"I look forward to working with you," the guy returned, smiling pleasantly at him. "As long as you start learning English, we'll work together just fine."

"Of course, of course," Alek agreed in English, nodding his agreement. He turned and moved from the room, feeling a bounce in his step.

"Well?" Judas asked…moving from the shadows.

Alek jumped hard, then smacked him as he started laughing. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I was _standing_ right there," Judas protested, still sniggering. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alek laughed more, hitting him again. "You're so damn annoying…"

"So what did he say?" Judas persisted.

"He said that I can start next Monday," Alek returned, bouncing. "He says that as long as I start learning English it should be fine."

"Kick ass," Judas congratulated him. "So you can hang out at my place for a week with my laptop while I play soldier boy."

"I thought you said you couldn't have me on base," Alek protested.

"I can do anything Jordan lets me do," Judas smirked. "On this base, there are three people who can tell him no, and two of them are too scared of what the others of the group will do if you piss them off to say much of anything. The other kinda has to deal with them."

"But isn't this one of the highest bases?" Alek asked in confusion. "I thought it had some of the highest ranking…"

"It does," Judas agreed, smirking more.

Alek stopped, focusing on him in disbelief.

"Let's go," Judas added. "We have to swing by and pick up Mouthy from the Rest."

"Did you just say that right?" Alek asked curiously. "Don't you mean vacation?"

Judas sniggered, realizing he'd actually translated the term. "No…I meant it in English. It's 'the Rest'," he said it in the correct language that time. "It's a charity mission run out of Lower Angels."

Alek gave him another look.

Judas sniggered more, patting the man on the back. "I promise it makes sense…really."

"Right," Alek returned, shaking his head.

Judas laughed, using the button to unlock his car as they neared it. "You followed me, huh? You can't blame me."

…Alek didn't have much to say about that.

- -

**February 19, A.C. 205. Lower Angels. 9 am**

Xane ran his hands nervously through his hair as he stood near the windows of the Rest. Judas had said he'd pick him up between eight and nine, so they could get back to base and start running with Simone, Trent, and Max. He'd gotten a ride to the Rest with Jordan the previous night and had stayed with a…friend. He'd claimed, anyway, that he'd arranged a rendezvous with someone for a distraction, and Jor hadn't even batted an eye. He'd gone deep into the slums and had sold the gun…he'd sold the _evidence_…to some random man who probably didn't need the damn thing…or shouldn't have had it, anyway. After that, he'd gone in and found just some guy…he hadn't mattered in the slightest…and had a damn fast and hard night.

He still couldn't forget. His playmate had helped for the night, and hadn't been awake when he'd left…but as soon as he was alone he was back to the nerves.

If he kept this up, he'd have to admit to Jordan what'd happened, and who knew what Jor would do then. He didn't know who he'd sold the weapon to; he'd made damn sure not to be in his right mind when he did it…but the scandal he'd created…if anyone realized…

He had to get rid of the notebook…but dropping that in Angels didn't appeal…something about a fire…maybe a burn bag. Jordan had burn bags, didn't he? That was an un-cross-able line, right?

Or was that just in the movies?

Xane ran his hands through his hair again.

"You okay?"

Xane turned to see the man he'd ordered to help Jordan before studying him and flashed him a grin. "I'm tired."

"You're here awfully early," the man agreed, moving forward to study him. "You working today?"

"No, actually," Xane returned, looking back out the window. "I'm waiting for my ride. It's easier to just meet up here."

"Ah," the guy nodded, looking out the window a moment before tapping his fingers on the glass with a slight smile.

"What?" Xane asked, studying him with interest.

"Bullet-proof," the guy returned, pointing at a sign on the wall. "You heard, didn't you?"

"About what?" Xane asked, moving to blink at the thing…an honorary plaque for the Winner family's donation?

Oh…the nephew…

"Yeah," Xane muttered, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm tired."

"You sleep last night?" the guy asked in amusement.

"I had a good hour or so," Xane agreed, flashing him a slight smirk.

He got rolled eyes for it and the man patted him on the back. "I'll catch you around, Featihl."

"Please don't say that," Xane muttered dryly. "I haven't had good experiences with being caught."

That got him a startled look before the man grinned and nodded, then turned and walked away.

Xane rubbed his arms, looking back out the window.

He didn't like the emotional turmoil…it brought up stuff he'd buried…he hadn't had a flash back to the previous year in six months. The man's comment had brought to mind the moment Corringer had started hitting him as he sat helpless and handcuffed in a chair.

The memory had made him go cold.

He saw Judas' car slide into the lot and sighed in relief on more than one level. Judas' presence meant two things. It meant he could get the hell out of there and he had back-up. He moved outside, barely moving the door as he did so and slid into the car without letting Judas stop. They were pulling out of the drive-way in seconds as Alek stared at Xane in disbelief.

"What?" Xane asked.

"When Judas said we were swinging by to get you, I didn't realize he meant it literally."

Xane snorted, buckling.

"I didn't mean it literally," Judas informed them both, giving Xane a curious look. "Any particular reason for melting?"

"I just had a lovely flash-back of Corringer beating the shit out of me. If you wanna break a few street laws I'm not going to really protest. I'd really like to be with my superior right now."

"Ooh, I thought you had that repressed," Judas muttered, swinging into traffic and picking up speed. "Alek, we call that an 'oh shit' bar," he pointed at the thing. "That's a good place to start your English lessons, because by the time we get back to base you'll be able to say it perfectly."

"Teach him 'fuck'," Xane suggested, dropping his head backwards. "It'll come in much more useful."

- -

**February 19, A.C. 205. Base. 9:30 am**

Jordan looked up in interest, then tilted his head at Judas and Alek as they moved into the house. "Good morning…did you miss your interview?"

Of course, that was about when he realized Alek's eyes were the size of saucers.

"Fuck," Alek informed him.

Xane started laughing weakly, moving around the pair to slide up beside Jordan.

"He got the job as long as he starts learning English," Judas noted happily. "Then we swung by the Rest to get Mouthy…and he sorta melted into my car."

"What's wrong?" Jor asked in concern, looking down at him.

"I had this wonderful flashback," Xane explained, relaxing against the man. "Hands behind my back and a bastard taking a swing."

"Mm," Jordan focused on his face better. "You okay?"

"I'm just…kinda cold," Xane returned, sighing slightly.

"You want some hot cocoa?" Chai asked, moving from the kitchen and smiling slightly at Alek.

"Hi," he muttered to her in English, waving slightly in response. He was taken with the dark-haired woman, but Jordan was scary. He'd decided immediately after seeing her that he'd be nice to her and keep his head out of the noose.

"No thanks," Xane returned, sighing and relaxing more into the couch. "I should be okay in a few minutes."

She smiled and brushed a hand over his head before turning and disappearing back into the kitchen.

"That's good," Jordan noted, grinning slightly at him. "I need you to take Trent into Angels and try to keep away from Judas and Simone."

"Quatre's not going to like that much," Judas protested, moving around to sit beside his friend and gesture at the armchair for Alek to sit. He switched to German to be polite. "Quatre's not going to be happy that I'm running around with her."

"He won't know until you're back," Jordan reassured him, glancing toward the empath's bedroom. "We're meeting at the main building here in a while…and I'm getting Raul to take Max to interrupt you two…you okay, Mouthy?"

"I...yeah," Xane returned tiredly.

"How many laws did you break?" he added to Judas, considering the time-frame he'd originally been given by his men.

"You honestly think I'll answer that truthfully?" Judas returned in mock amazement.

Jordan grinned, then pointed at Alek. "I'm going to buddy you up with Allul. He's taken some interest in the matter."

"What?" Alek asked blankly.

Jordan studied him in high amusement for a moment, then tilted his head. "Some day I'm going to say something to you, and your first response isn't going to be 'what', do you know that?"

"Haha," Alek retorted, almost rolling his eyes.

"Allul," Jordan clarified. "I'm sure you can understand that's a person, and male since I said 'he'. He's taken interest in the fact that you stalked my guy over three countries and an ocean…the fact that you're trying to find a job to stay here…the fact that you don't care he's a spy and used you for the last two or three months to gain rank in a dirty arms organization…and I'm sure the fact that you want to learn English will just catch him just that much more. He's also Chance's second. I talked to Chance," he added, looking to Judas. "He's agreed to let the two of them run around a couple hours every day…with the specific aim," he added, looking back to Alek, "of _teaching_ you English."

"All right," Alek agreed somewhat nervously.

"Let's head down to the main," Jor added, rising to his feet and tousling Xane's hair. "If you're ready."

Xane studied him a long moment, then nodded and pushed his way up.

"Okay," he gestured at Judas, then moved into the kitchen. "I'll be back within the hour," he noted to his wife, kissing her. "I love you, huh?"

"Okay," she returned, kissing him again. "I love you, too."

He smiled at her, stealing the graham cracker she was eating and bouncing out of her arm's reach as she protested after him. The others were already out the door, so he darted after them, starting to laugh as his wife chased after him. He jumped from the top of the porch to the path as his men turned to give him confused looks as they slid into the car.

"Jordan!" Chai protested in a squeak from the porch, stomping her foot.

"I love you!" he replied instantly, grinning wickedly at her before turning and diving into Judas' car. "Go!"

"What did you do?" Judas demanded as he threw his car into reverse.

"I stole her graham cracker," he returned happily as she stopped on the sidewalk with her hands on her hips.

They all turned to look at him as Judas stopped abruptly.

Chai started laughing, turning to Shin, who was moving toward the other woman with Chip skipping along behind her. Jordan's wife was still laughing as she turned and waved at the car, then turned and moved quickly across the grass with Shin behind her as Chip looked after Judas' car with interest.

Jordan waved out the back window at the boy…who beamed and waved back before darting up to the house.


	46. 46

— 46 —

**February 23, A.C. 205. Base. 12:30 pm**

Jordan frowned as he listened to his house. He didn't want to be chauvinistic or an ass in any general sort of way, but Chai was usually cleaning the kitchen up when he came home for lunch…either that or at Shin's.

Shin was meeting Chance for lunch.

"Chia?" Jor called, closing the front door. "Chai?"

It remained quiet, and Jordan frowned as he moved into the kitchen, looking toward the garage. The door was closed, and she left it open when she was there…so…

"Baby?" Jor asked, finally spotting her on their bed. "You okay?" He moved into the room, studying her uncertainly.

The kitchen was still a mess from breakfast, and his wife generally cleaned up right when they were done.

"Hey, honey," she muttered, sitting up quickly and wiping her eyes. "Is it already noon?"

"Twelve-thirty," he agreed, moving to stand in front of her so she didn't move off the bed.

She gave him an amused look. "You're impossible…"

"What?" he asked, then sniggered and leaned down to kiss her. "That's not what I was about."

"I don't believe you," she teased.

He ran his thumb under her eye, then rubbed it against his index finger to dissipate the water on it before raising his eyes to hers again.

She laughed embarrassedly, rubbing at her eyes again before pressing up into his arms, kissing him.

"That's not going to work," he noted, pulling away to study her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" she asked lightly, starting to pull away.

"Chia, you were crying," he noted, raising an eyebrow.

"Only Nick can call me that," she retorted, starting to climb off the end of the bed.

Jordan grabbed her arm before she could move, studying her face seriously.

"Don't manhandle me," she retorted, starting to brush him off as she avoided his eyes.

"Look at me," he retorted, trying to figure out what was wrong. As far as he was aware, he hadn't made any errors of gross stupidity…but that didn't actually mean he hadn't done something wrong.

She stopped, her eyes filling with tears again, then started shaking her head hard.

"What did I do?" he asked, taken aback. "I did something wrong…I know I did…"

"No, you didn't," she retorted, wiping her eyes hard and pulling away from him. "I'll make lunch…"

"Chai," he protested, grabbing her arm again and frowning at her…and she started crying harder, pulling herself to his shirt. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she calmed herself again and rested her weight against him. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"I don't think I can have a baby," she burst out, pressing her face into his throat. "I don't think I can be a mommy…"

"What?" Jordan protested, pulling away slightly from her to study her face. "Why not? You'll be a good mother…"

"I don't think I will be," she pressed herself into his arms again, starting to cry.

"Baby," he protested, moving to pull himself onto the mattress and her with him. "What happened?"

She studied his eyes a moment, then looked away as she started rubbing her eyes.

"Baby…" he muttered, running a hand through her hair as he studied her face.

She met his eyes, then looked down. "I'm scared."

"Having a baby is like that," he muttered, considering her eyes. "But Shin's done it, and she'll help us…"

Chai started shaking her head, rubbing her eyes harder.

Jordan's stomach clenched and he sat back slightly as he studied her. "You…don't…want to have a baby?"

She started crying again, looking away from him and starting to shake here head.

Jordan…didn't know what to do. He watched her as she shook her head more, then met his eyes. "Uh…"

"I want to give you a baby," she returned, not looking at him. "You want a baby…"

"I can wait," he protested, moving forward and pulling her to him again. "I can…I thought you wanted…"

"I don't think I'm ready," she whispered, studying his eyes and swallowing. "I…"

Jordan pulled her to him again, hugging her tightly as he thought that over. "I never meant you to…I…" He was feeling seriously guilty…he'd thought she'd _wanted_ a baby… "I want you to _want_ to have a baby before we have one," he muttered, pulling away to meet her eyes again. "I just…I thought you wanted one."

"I do," she muttered, looking down. "But I'm scared."

He sighed, then pulled her to him again and nodded.

"What?"

"It's okay," he said quietly, pulling away again and touching her face. "It's… all right."

She stared at him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, studying her eyes. "I didn't realize how much it really upset you."

"You're always so perfectly reasonable," she snapped at him irritably, yanking away and storming from the room.

Jordan stared after her in disbelief. "What?"

"Why don't you ever get _mad_ at me?" she snapped, looking back at him over her shoulder.

"Because I have no _reason_ to get mad at you," he snapped back. "I'm the one who was pressing about having a baby without actually _asking_ you what you thought about it…"

"You wanted a baby, and I want what you want," she retorted.

"Then why should I get mad at you?" he demanded, leaning against the door-jamb.

"Because you're not _normal_…I've been freaked out _all_ morning about telling you," she gestured toward the bedroom. "Thinking you'd get pissed and tell me not to be stupid…"

"You're being stupid now, does that count?"

She glowered at him.

He uncrossed his arms and moved around the counter, studying her seriously. "You seriously want me to get pissed at you because you're not ready to have a baby? Does that seem _fair_ to you?"

"You _want_ one," she retorted.

"Yeah, with the woman I love," he retorted irritably, leaning against the counter. "And since I love her, doesn't it make more sense to wait until _she's_ ready?"

She glowered at him.

"I wish…you could trust me," he muttered, looking away tiredly.

"What part of my life did you miss?" she demanded of him in irritation. "You know where I grew up…"

"More's the pity," he retorted, moving away into the living room.

"Asshole."

"Bitch," he retorted…as Quatre pushed into the front door.

Quatre blinked at him.

"Hey," he greeted his friend, dropping onto the couch.

"Hey," Quatre returned, studying him with interest before moving across the living room to look in at Chai.

"Is it just us, then?" Chai asked him curiously, giving him a pointed 'leave it lie' sort of look.

"As far as I know," Quatre returned, moving more into the room as he noticed that the morning's dishes weren't cleaned…and Chai had red eyes. On top of that, she was annoyed and upset and Jordan was annoyed and guilty. "Uh…"

"Don't ask, please?" Chai asked, studying his face seriously. "Put the necklace back on and I'll make us all lunch."

Quatre considered her face and emotions a long moment, then shrugged. He didn't like it, but it wasn't really his business. He pulled the necklace from his pocket and clipped it around his neck, then raised the magnet to it. It was a marginal relief to be removed from their annoyance, but he really preferred being able to sense them in his own house…which they did both know.

"How has your day been?" she asked, turning to the fridge.

"Not bad…got a call from Margrite suggesting I come for Easter. I guess they're having a family get-together…with anyone who can make it."

"Sounds like fun," she noted, pulling food out. "Are you going?"

"Depends," he returned, shrugging as Jordan joined them and gave him an interested look. "Are you coming with me?"

Chai turned to look at him blankly.

"I don't mind my family, but it's not fair that you're all here together and I'm stuck out there."

"I've never been to the colonies," she noted, looking to Jordan curiously before remembering she was annoyed with him and looking away again.

Jordan shrugged. "Anything she wants to do, I'm game for."

Chai snorted slightly, moving back to the fridge as Jordan rolled his eyes.

That was…awkward. Quatre raised an eyebrow at his friend, who rolled his eyes again, then shrugged. "I figure if I can get you and Chance on board, then Wufei and Trowa will fall in line."

"Sound thinking, I guess. You gonna tell Shin?" Jor grinned slightly.

"What?" Chai asked blankly.

"If Shin wants to go," Jordan returned, meeting here eyes, "then Chance will want to take her…see, he loves her and wants her happy. The little facts instances along the way are just details."

She set the loaf of bread down hard, glaring at him.

"Don't squish it," he protested, gesturing at the thing.

"I'm going to hurt you," she informed him, then spun to pull out a knife.

"Hey now," Jordan protested, "we don't want the MP called on us for domestic dispute."

She slammed the knife back into the drawer, turning to glare at him.

"What?" he demanded levelly. "You want me to be an ass, I'll be an ass. I can be an absolute dick again…you didn't seem to mind when we were in the apartment, anyway."

"Fuck you!" she squeaked as Quatre flinched back from the pitch the word hit…well, that and it was obviously whatever he'd walked in on.

"Well _shit_," he shouted back, rising to his feet. "I can't do anything right, can I?"

…and he stormed from the kitchen…and left the house.

"Bastard," Chai snapped, turning back to the bread.

Quatre was staring at her in disbelief.

They'd never had a fight since he'd been there, not in any serious way…and he hadn't _heard_ Jordan yell in several months.

He was really happy he had the necklace on.

"What?" she snapped at him irritably, then stopped as she realized she still had the bread out for her husband's sandwich…she stared at that a long moment, then tears filled her eyes…and she darted into their bedroom, slamming the door behind herself.

Quatre half slid off the stool, wanting to comfort her…but she'd all but told him to mind his own business. He stood there a long moment, torn, then decided not to bother her…but he wasn't leaving her with the messy-ass kitchen like he didn't give a damn.

He moved around the counter, and started to make his lunch.

He'd take care of that first, then go find Jordan.

- -

**February 23, A.C. 205. Base. 2pm**

"Hey," Trowa muttered happily as he moved to slide in the booth next to Quatre. The blond had hunted down Chance after lunch and then grabbed Wufei before calling Trowa and telling him to meet them for a coffee break. "What's going on?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Quatre returned, looking to them all seriously. "I just wanted to warn you that Jordan's in an extremely bad mood…something happened between him and Chai before I came in at lunch and they were actually bickering…like, Jor yelled at her."

The three frowned.

"Other than that, Margrite called me," he added, taking a drink from his cup. "She told me I should come up for Easter, she's getting together whoever can come. I don't want to go alone, and Chai seems to want to go. I think we should all do it."

"You want us to go to your family gathering?" Chance asked him blankly.

"Hey, man," Quatre shrugged, "they might be blood, but you lot have been with me a long time. I figure I may as well integrate you into these things so I don't get so damned bored when I have to go do them."

Chance looked to Wufei, then over to Trowa.

Trowa shrugged.

"I'll see what Shin says," Chance agreed, then looked to Wufei.

Wufei shrugged almost indifferently. "I'll go with the majority on this one. Meantime, we should have a movie-night, get tipsy, then all go pile into Une's office and beg a house off her for me and Tro."

"Huh?" Quatre and Chance asked him blankly.

"If we're having a movie night," Tro countered, "Une won't be _in_ her office."

"Hm," Wufei frowned, thinking about that before looking to the others. "What?"

"A house?" Quatre asked.

"That apartment is damn big," Trowa noted, focusing on the plate of fries the others had ordered and grabbing some. "It's too much space for just two of us…and if we're lucky, one of the places by you guys will be available and we can live near each other again."

"Evidently someone," Wufei noted, leaning toward Chance and lowering his voice, "and I'm not saying any names here…but someone has issues with being home alone."

Trowa flashed him a grin and threw a fry at him.

"I didn't say any names," Wufei added, gesturing in a vague way at the other two pilots.

Quatre grinned at him, then raised an eyebrow at Trowa.

"What's your suggestions for breaking bad habits?" Trowa asked him curiously.

"Mm, get a rubber-band," Chance returned as Wufei ate the fry that had hit him, "and whenever you catch yourself doing it…or thinking about it…flick it."

Trowa blinked at him–his words had been accompanied by a gesture.

"Distraction usually works," Wufei added, tilting his head. "I had to figure out something else to do to keep my hands occupied…I still have to sometimes. It's not even like I want the nicotine anymore, but the habit," he raised a hand to his mouth and then rolled his eyes.

"And then maybe get a buddy," Quatre agreed, picking up a fry and considering it. "Someone who you can call when you're feeling the need."

"That's an addiction thing, though," Chance noted, blinking at him blankly. "You're not addicted to anything, are you?" he asked Trowa.

Trowa grinned briefly at him, wondering if the issue'd be pressed.

"If it is," Wufei noted, taking a few fries from the plate and dipping them in the sauce, "then you could probably find a support group for it online or something…keep you anonymous."

"Until they decided they wanted to know what I was up to," Trowa retorted, gesturing at Chance.

"I'm two people now?" Chance asked him curiously.

"Heero and Chance Yuy," Wufei agreed, grinning at him. "If you recall, Heero kicked ass at hacking…Chance…not so much," he used his hand to indicate unbalance.

Chance laughed and smacked at him.

"I meant Jor, anyway," Trowa retorted.

Chance grinned at that. "What's your bad habit?"

Trowa's eyes sparkled as he looked back to the man, taking more fries and putting them in his mouth. He had no intentions of telling any of them anything. He didn't have the immediate addiction to the vrit anymore, but the habit part of it, and the part that made it an escape, made him want it more. He hadn't even thought of looking for any sort of buddy system.

"No?" Chance asked, pouting at him. "You're mean, I thought we were friends."

"What gave you _that_ idea?" Trowa asked him, then grinned more.

Chance snorted and went back to the fries, noting they were mostly gone.

"You could probably run it by Jor," Quatre noted, tilting his head at his friend. "I'm pretty sure he's had bad habits he's had to break from."

"Or maybe Xane and'em," Wufei agreed.

"You lot are full of useful information," Trowa informed them all sarcastically.

"You just have to ask," Chance agreed as Quatre took the last fry. He sighed, then took a large drink from his glass and stood up. "Une was saying something about possibly needing my guys," he noted, tossing some bills from his wallet on the table. "I should go talk to her more about that and mutter to her that it'd be kinda cool for you two to get a place near us," he gestured with his head at Wufei. "Later."

"Later," Quatre returned as Wufei nodded.

"Thanks for lunch," Trowa added, watching the guy move off down the isle.

"You didn't take lunch?" Wufei asked Trowa blankly.

"I thought about it," Trowa returned, grinning more.

"Get more food," Quatre muttered, pulling his own wallet out and tossing bills onto the table. "Let me out."

Trowa moved from his way, frowning at him as he waved at Wufei and wandered off.

"Well," Wufei started.

"You're leaving me, too?" Trowa snapped at him irritably, then shook his head in disgust and stood up, moving to the counter.

Wufei blinked at that, then tossed his own pair of bills onto the table…he waited a moment until he realized that Trowa was ordering from the waitress, then looked around.

There wasn't really much left to do though, really.

He headed for his car.


	47. 47

— 47 —

**February 25, A.C. 205. Base. 9am**

"How do you say…" Alek started, then frowned as he looked around to Mario. "You said…earlier," he noted.

"What were we talking about?" Mario asked him curiously.

Alek frowned, thinking back over the earlier portion of the day.

"I'm gonna head back to my place," Raul noted, glancing at his watch. "It shouldn't take me too long."

"What are you doing?" Xane asked, tilting his head at his friend.

"He's gonna go play his flute, huh?" Judas asked him happily in German.

Xane rolled his eyes as Alek started laughing.

"Don't do that," Mario snapped at the man.

"What?" Judas asked, startled by the command in the tone.

"Don't be speaking German at him when I'm trying to teach him English," Mario's tone was annoyed. "It's too easy to fall into it instead of figuring everything else out."

"Hm, and Yuy outranks Maxwell," Xane noted, looking to his comrades. "That means he outranks us."

"Damn," Judas muttered, then shrugged and looked to Alek again.

"I'll be back later," Raul noted, rolling his eyes at the guys.

As far as he could figure, he'd waited too long, but Juan should be on his island. He'd have to say something about getting a phone line set up and timing…the fact that he was calling at all should thrill the man anyway.

He moved into his car, and it only took him a few minutes to get from Judas' apartment to his own. He moved into the place silently, pulling a can from his fridge as he turned to his vid and typed in the access code he got to use because Maxwell was special, then typed the first numbers in from memory as he opened his phone to check the ending.

Instead of ringing, the line started playing a song that Juan'd had blasting in his car several times.

Raul grinned slightly, leaning his weight against his right arm beside the vid screen.

Juan's expression was confused as he first appeared, and then his eyes instantly brightened. "Raul!"

"Wow, you remember me?" Raul teased, grinning as he stood straighter. "I thought you'd have forgotten about me."

"I thought you didn't want to bother," Juan noted, his expression faltering a moment.

"It took me a while to get them to set up the line," Raul noted, rolling his eyes. "And then I had to wait until a time I think you're normally home…you're not busy are you?"

"No! Of course not! Here…let me call back," the guy looked pleased again. "You can tell me how the states are treating you!" he laughed a bit, bouncing slightly. "What's the number?"

- -

**February 25, A.C. 205. Base. 12pm**

Jordan looked up to Raul with raised eyebrows as Xane slid in next to their superior.

"Huh…" Raul considered playing innocent, then decided it wouldn't be worth the effort. "What?"

"What?" Jordan repeated levelly.

"What did you do?" Riley asked as she and Danielle looked up at the males. "He's been grumpy."

"He's fighting with Chai or something," Xane noted as Judas sat next to Danielle. "That'd make any man grumpy."

Jordan gave him a look as Raul turned to gather a chair from a near-by table.

"What?" Xane asked curiously.

"Where is Alek, speaking of," Jordan looked back to Judas.

"We were speaking about him?" Riley asked blankly, blinking at the man.

He leveled _her_ with a look.

She started eating her food again.

"Alek says 'what' as an initial response to anything he says," Xane noted happily. "Doesn't matter if he perfectly understands it or not."

"Ah," Riley nodded, then tilted her head at Judas.

"Mario's taking him to lunch in town," Judas explained, shrugging himself as he started picking at the plate of food that had been ordered for him. "We've been ordered not to speak German to him when Mario's around."

"Damn," Danielle muttered, blinking at him before looking to Xane.

"Hm?" Xane asked from where he also had started picking at his food.

"What's up with you? You're not eating."

"I'm eating," he retorted, gesturing at his plate like there was a visible difference from when he'd sat.

"Sure," Danielle agreed, looking to Raul. "What did you do?"

"What do you think I did?" Raul returned easily.

"I think you did something that you probably shouldn't have," she returned. "Something with questionable legality that Jor doesn't entirely approve of, but you used his resources."

"He called Juan Tsai," Jordan noted, leveling Raul with a look.

"Why the hell for?" Xane asked him blankly.

"Sorry, Chris," Raul retorted, giving him a look. "Didn't mean to bug you."

The group focused on Xane, who rolled his eyes and looked away.

"I told him I would and he'll call me," Raul noted. "The guy doesn't have any real friends and he's not that bad to hang out with…he's really damn impressionable, too, so if I can get my hooks in him properly he'll level off his black-market shit."

"Or something," Jordan agreed darkly.

"We talked for two minutes on Jor's penny," Raul added to the females, "then he called me back and we talked for a half hour."

"He lives in Taiwan, doesn't he?" Riley asked curiously. "Isn't the long-distance hell?"

"I suppose," Raul shrugged. "What harm does it do me to talk to him, really?"

"Oh, I dunno, something about him calling the base sets up red flags," Jordan noted dryly. "At some point your conversations _will_ get tapped, and if whatever you're saying sounds even remotely illegal they'll set up a fucking inquisition to make sure you're not breaking the law."

Raul blinked at him, then shrugged and looked down to his plate.

It seemed about time to give the man his cell phone number instead of the vid…or find some way to make other arrangements.

- -

**February 25, A.C. 205. Base. 5pm**

"So?" Chance asked curiously, resting his weight against Une's desk as he watched her flip through a file by the window.

"So…what?" she returned, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"So have you decided," he explained, tilting his head slightly. "You said that house'd be empty in a week and he could have it."

"What if we're relocating?" she snapped, turning to look at him. "Why should you settle down when we cold move at any time?"

"Because I'm not moving," Chance gave her a curious look. "And without me, you'd be hard-pressed to get the others to move with you."

"You can't stay if I leave," she protested, turning on him. "If I leave, you have to come with me."

"No, actually," Chance returned. "I'm a free-agent…we all are. Actually, I think at this point that if we put in for the rank upgrade we cold all be generals."

"That's a scary thought," she muttered, turning back to the file. "Yes."

"What?" he asked blankly.

"That house will be free in two weeks and they can move in it," she returned, looking back to him again.

He gave her a very long and very level look.

She shrugged and went back to her task.

"Some days I hate you," Chance informed her, pushing away from the desk. "You want to come to our place for supper tonight?"

"Sure," she returned pleasantly, turning to smile at him.

He grinned at her, then turned. "I'll make sure my wife is all right with it," he noted. "I'll call you or send a runner once I get the final word."

"All right," she agreed happily. "Later."

Chance left the room.

- -

**February 25, A.C. 205. Base. 9pm**

Jordan started laughing hard as Une gave him an almost real disbelieving look.

"You're horrible!" Chai protested, hitting at her husband in protest, which made him laugh harder.

Quatre slammed his palm to his forehead and Chance had been laughing since he'd realized what his friend had been saying. Trowa had his palm against his forehead and Wufei was laughing just as hard as Chance.

"Oh wow…just…wow," Shin muttered, running a hand down her face.

Jordan laughed even harder.

"I so disown you all," Une noted, rising to her feet.

"Hey!" Chance protested, though he was still laughing.

Une grinned at them, then sighed and shook her head. "I do have to go...you get that house across the street," she added to Trowa and Wufei, pointing out the window. "The family in there is moving to Panama in a week, there will be a week of revamp to make sure it's still stable and what have you, then you can move in."

Wufei and Trowa both blinked at her, sobering in amazement.

"Didn't you tell them?" she demanded of Chance.

Chance laughed even more as they all looked at him. "I kinda forgot…it's only been a couple hours."

"Holy shit, really?" Trowa asked, looking back to the woman.

"I received your request," she noted, tilting her head at them. "And now I'm assuming it was forged by Mr. Legal, there," she pointed at Chance and rolled her eyes. "Don't you remember turning it into me at one this afternoon? I was out of my office at the time, but who else would have set it on my desk?"

They grinned innocently at her.

She rolled her eyes again, smacked Chance lightly upside the head, then winked at Jordan. "Be good, boys. I'll see you in the morning or something."

"Or something," Jor agreed.

"Oi, Une," Quatre muttered.

She stopped and turned to look at him.

"We're all going to need a week off around Easter."

She raised her eyebrow at him.

"I invited them with me to go to L-4 and meet my family," he explained, studying her expression. "I've done roped them into it, so we'll need the time off."

She sighed heavily, shaking her head at him, then turned and left the office.

"Does that mean you don't get it?" Shin asked in concern, looking to the man.

"That means she's going to have to work on getting it for us and that will make people irritated with her," Chance noted, pursing his lips. "I guess it's time to rally the troops, huh? I'll schedule another officer's club and we can own some ass."

Shin turned to give him a _very_ level look.

He grinned innocently at her.

"Some days I can't believe I married you," she informed him.

"But, Mom," Chip muttered, bouncing slightly where he was sitting. "He gave you that really _big_ rock."

Chai started laughing wickedly as Shin grinned back at her child.

Chip was very proud of himself.

"Oh geeze," Jordan muttered, smacking his palm to his forehead as Chance started laughing himself.

"I guess some things breed true," Quatre noted to Wufei.

"More's the pity," Wufei conceded.

Shin started laughing.

- -

**February 25, A.C. 205. Base. 11pm**

Considering that they'd never actually gotten into a fight before, Jordan wasn't entirely sure how to go about apologizing to the woman. He wasn't sure if it was necessary, or even if she was over it. He'd been in other fights, and he knew make-up sex could be quite satisfying, but that wasn't the point of his relationship with his dark-haired wife.

"Hm?" she muttered as he shut the door behind them, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm an asshole," he returned, moving to sit on the end of the bed.

She cocked her head to the side slightly as she pulled her shirt off. "And…why are you thinking that?"

"Because I have this wife," he returned, pulling his own shirt off as he started kicking off his shoes. "She's this wonderful woman who I've been fucking up with."

"Not the last two nights," she retorted, turning into the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," he said seriously, studying her as she started brushing her teeth. "And you know," he added, moving to lean against the bathroom door. "I grew up in a worse place than Angels…at least when I was little. That part of L-2 had been royally screwed over, under, around and through so many times it couldn't tell it's head from it's ass. I told you how I got my first name, didn't I?" he asked, studying her seriously.

She nodded, looking down.

"I didn't mature in the same situation as you," he said quietly, looking toward the shower. "I would have, and probably would have been as worthless as Traumer, but my life was changed. I had to grow up damn fast," he met her eyes. "And in doing that, I realized that life is too short…it could end too quickly to spend any time pissed because I didn't get my way. I'm not saying I don't get pissed if I don't, I am human, but when it gets to the things that really matter…serious emotional shit…I'm going to do every damn thing I possibly can for you…asking me to wait to become a father isn't exactly that hard. When we finally have a baby, it's going to be different…you know? We'll be taking care of 'im, dealing with 's school stuff…and then more…I mean, I don't know about you, but I want more than one…" as he said it, he looked away.

She smiled slightly at that. "Our boys at soccer and our girls with me to the salon?"

He smiled, meeting her eyes and nodding.

She sighed, turning to move into his arms. "Don't beat yourself up about that, okay?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. "I was imagining you walking out of the room on me when I said it, or telling me that I was stupid…like my father or something. I know you're not like that, but when I panic that's where my mind goes…okay?" She pulled back to study his eyes. "Are you really okay with waiting?"

"You're my wife," he returned, studying her. "I'm your husband…for better or worse until death do us part…I'd bring you the moon if you wanted it…you want your own country? I can get it, don't know how long I'd hold it, but I could get you your own country…"

She smiled at that, studying his eyes.

"When you're ready, I'm ready," he noted, kissing her lightly. "And until you're ready, I can wait…shit, Chai, how long did it take until we even had sex, huh? We can keep practicing, we'll get it perfect some time…"

She laughed at that and shoved him from the room, her eyes were amused as she rolled them…and shut the bathroom door in his face.

He grinned, leaning against the wall beside it. "I seriously have to piss," he noted. "Which means you seriously need to hurry up."

"Oh, hush, there are two bathrooms in this house," she retorted…and flicked on the fan.

Jordan shoved away from the wall, rolled his eyes, then moved into the kitchen…to see Quatre pushing away from the breakfast bar from the kitchen side…with very wide eyes.

"You did not," Jordan protested, staring at him in disbelief. "You did _not_…"

Quatre didn't have his necklace on.

"I didn't think it'd matter," Quatre retorted, stepping back.

It was an old thing that had more to do with the fact that Jordan'd smack people for a positive answer to that particular question than with actual guilt…

Jordan knew he couldn't reach the blond, and while he wanted the little gratification a smack would get, he didn't feel like exerting himself to achieve it. He glowered at Quatre, realizing that his annoyance was obvious to the other…and smacked the counter hard on the side.

Quatre flinched, stepping back.

"I have to pee, so I'm going this way," Jor informed him in annoyance, starting away. "Then we can talk."

"We don't have to, really," Quatre noted dryly, digging into the fridge. "You two were freaking me out the last couple days."

"Um, married people argue," Jor noted, glancing at him before moving into the bathroom and closing the door. He went about his business quickly before stepping back into the hall and crossing his arms and looking at his friend.

"You _yelled_ at her," Quatre retorted, giving him a disbelieving sort of look. "I haven't heard you yell in like…a _year!_"

"She was annoyed at me for not being mad at her," Jordan retorted, staring at him in disbelief. "That made me mad…it was beyond stupid and by far not the maturist argument I've ever gotten into…but…_really!_"

Quatre blinked at him.

Jordan sighed, moving around to lean against the counter as he thought. Chance had pulled him aside the day the stupidity had started and explained that Quatre had warned them all what was up. Chance knew what the problem was, but didn't have any useful advice on the matter…and now that it seemed to have been resolved, it wasn't something to keep entirely to himself.

"Hm?" Quatre asked, opening the pop he'd dug out and moving back to the counter to study his friend.

"She doesn't think she's ready to have a baby," he explained, raising his eyes to the other's.

Quatre blinked at him.

Jordan shrugged, looking down again. "I told her it was fine and I could wait and she got pissed because she'd worked herself up all morning about it…"

"Oh," Quatre muttered, understanding everything he'd overheard over the past few days. "I see."

"Yeah," Jor agreed, then sighed and shrugged, pushing away from the counter. "Night."

"You two making up?" Quatre asked wryly.

"Call Simone over," Jor suggested, smirking a quirky little smirk at his friend as he headed toward the bedroom.

"Hahaha," Quatre retorted, then sighed and started looking around. "I have ten minutes, don't I?"

Jordan started laughing wickedly and slid back into the bedroom.

"What are you chuckling at?" Chai demanded, turning her amethyst eyes onto his.

"I was talking to Quatre," Jor shrugged. "He asked if he had ten minutes."

She snorted at him, moving to drop on the bed and pull off her pants. "Turn off the light, Jordan."


	48. 48

— 48 —

**March 2, A.C. 205. Base. 5pm**

'Business as usual' re-convened according to the week-day week-end schedule, and March started out with a sort of quiet contentment…that didn't last long.

On Wednesday, Chance had three men in the hospital from a raid. Two of them had been brought in critically wounded, but the quick write-up of Remalene changed that status by lunch. The third had been shot in the leg…painful, but not nearly as traumatizing. Wufei was called into Une's office and introduced to four men who looked to be escaped science experiments and told that they needed training. Trowa's machines had passed the simple flying tests with…flying…colors, so they moved into the second stage of the testing, which was more like battle-readiness…and two of them lost power. Both pilots were fairly seriously injured in the resulting crash, and the rest of his testing had to be set aside until they could figure out what had actually happened and fix it, then check the rest of the machines.

And as if that wasn't enough, one of Quatre's empaths…his third, as it were, started suffering a serious breakdown because he was one of the ones that refused to take off his necklace, and Quatre was realizing more and more that those ones had serious problems dealing with the world around them.

Jordan tossed a file onto his desk, looking around his office before shoving from his seat and standing up.

Evidently, the arms ring he'd had his men in had faltered severely around when Judas left, and it had ended in the death of the man called Holt, who didn't seem to have a replacement…before, but according to the reports that had been sent in from Vietnam, things were starting to stabilize.

Actually, the turmoil between Mozambique and Tanzania had roiled up again. Chance had been accosted by the Tanzanian ambassador in the same unofficial capacity as the Mozambique ambassador had attacked him, which meant he was trying to figure out what he could about everything going on in the countries.

Jordan had a feeling that was why he'd asked to talk to him…after hours.

The former pilot tossed his files in the various places they belonged, then stretched and popped his neck. By the time he'd finished gathering his things and moved into the hall, Chance was already waiting for him. He was leaning against the wall across from the door, and had his arms crossed.

"Hey, sexy," Jordan muttered, pulling his office door closed.

"Shh," Chance retorted, "someone might hear you…you got it?"

"The jelly?" Jordan asked, looking around the hall as if he was expecting to see someone. "Of course I do."

Chance snorted. "Took you long enough."

"It's okay, baby…" Jor protested, moving closer to him.

Chance gave him a look that noted very pointedly that the game was over.

Jordan grinned at him. The non-reaction was even better than a response.

"Let's go," Chance suggested, pushing away from the wall and starting for the exit.

"What's up?" Jor asked happily, moving to follow.

"I need to borrow your pretty little pets," Chance explained. "Not the babies, either."

"The babies are the ones that need the run," Jor noted, tilting his head at his friend.

"But the babies have never been tested. I want you to send Mouthy and Jude to…"

"Xane and Judas?" Jordan cut him off, grabbing his arm. "You're joking, right? You want me to send my best guys?"

"Raul and Riley are perfectly fine," Chance retorted. "Danielle is good as long as the situation doesn't change on her."

"Do you have a mission for this?" Jor asked pointedly.

"No, but I'm sure we can throw something together pretty quick," Chance retorted, turning to meet his eyes. "We can donate to some missions in either country and a couple men can get left behind."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what's starting this shit," Chance retorted, turning and pulling him so he was against the wall. He leaned in closer, studying his friend's eyes. "There's something going on between the two and neither government seems to be involved…but some of that shit has to be government operated. I don't think it's the ruling party doing it. It's looking like dirty politicians from what I can see, but I can't see more than this," he held his hands out in front of himself a few feet apart. "I need eyes and ears out there to get me my damn information so I can figure out how to stop it."

"So you're single-handedly going to stop the unrest along four hundred miles of borderland?"

Chance turned and gave him a _very_ wry look. "What was Libra?"

"A very big ship?" Jordan perked up slightly.

"And what was it doing?"

"Plummeting toward Earth like the meteor that took out the dinosaurs…to take out the humans?"

Chance nodded slightly at that. "And what did I do?"

"Went back to kick Zechs' ass?"

Chance started laughing and smacked him hard in the arm.

Jordan laughed himself, pulling away from the wall and starting toward the stairs. "Oh, don't even pretend you weren't there to be the hero, Heero," he added happily as he bounced down the stairs.

"And what were you doing?" Chance retorted.

"I was trying to kill that damned machine while you played inside it," Jor noted.

Chance shook his head, then stopped and looked over the ground layer.

"What?" Jordan asked curiously, studying his friend. "_What?_" he rested beside him.

"Why did we live?" he asked quietly, studying the ground. "Why didn't we die? Zechs thought he was dead…we all thought he was dead…why one out of _all_ of us?"

"Only one?" Jordan asked, turning to focus back on him.

"Only Treize," Chance agreed, looking toward the high ceiling above them.

"You honestly think fate is done with us yet?" Jordan asked curiously, looking up himself. "You seriously believe that we could have accomplished _so_ much…and that we'd just get killed off?"

"I've gotten more serious wounds in my raids than I did in the war," Chance noted, looking back to him.

"We also were surrounded in gundanium during the war," Jor reminded him quietly. "What we're doing now…the spying, the raids, the hand-to-hand…it's just busy-work until the next big thing…the next big war."

"I think the wars are done," Chance retorted, turning to look at him curiously.

Jor snorted, moving away and starting down the stairs again. "Not until the devil has his due."

"What _is_ the devil's due?" Chance demanded, giving chase. "I know I've asked you before and you never answer me."

Jor laughed, turning to walk away from him backwards. "I'm just the god of death, Heero…I don't hold no deep dark answers for you."

"You're running," Chance noted, keeping the distance between them consistent. "You're running from me."

"I'm pretty damn good at it, huh?" Jor asked with a smirk. "Five years should be impressive."

"Duo," Chance snapped.

Jordan leaned against the door, noting that there were a few people in the lobby watching. He grinned as his friend got nearer him, then shoved the door open. "I may run, I may hide…but I never tell a lie."

"Or at least, you didn't," Chance tilted his head. "I thought you wore that sorry line out."

"You can have my guys," Jordan informed him pointedly as he moved into the cool breeze. "Get your information ready and I'll gather them up."

"Why does that question freak you out so much?" Chance muttered, joining him as they headed for their cars. "You always freak out."

"I don't think the devil's due is death," Jordan noted, raising his head so they could meet eyes. "I don't think that the blood spilled will be that of life."

"Rape?" Chance was actually startled by that.

"Innocence," Jordan returned, looking away. "I'm not the god of death because I flew a flashy black machine…I'm the god of death because I had no innocence left to me. I was born of no woman to no man…and that void of my creation gave no information. I saw so much blood and death…and then I _caused_ blood and death…I hadn't even had kissed a girl by the first time I killed a man. Instead of going to school and worrying about finals, I was taking down a tyrannical governing power…you didn't even _have_ a childhood, shitty or other…Trowa was with the mercenaries as far back as he can remember…and Quatre's father didn't _allow_ him a normal childhood…and Wufei?"

"Atlas," Chance noted.

Jordan looked away.

"Atlas," Chance repeated as he stopped at the front of Jordan's car. "They say you hold the weight of the world on your shoulder's, but it's not the world…it's the sky."

Jordan shook his head, sliding into his car.

Chance grinned slightly as he watched his friend start the engine, then moved to slide into his own vehicle.

- -

**March 3, A.C. 205. Base. 9:30am**

Judas was staring at Jordan.

"We haven't set up the dates yet," Jordan added, moving to sit at the head of the table. "Until he gets his shit together, we're not doing anything."

"I wonder if his mother knows what he's doing," Danielle muttered.

They all turned to look at her blankly.

"Why would you think that?" Simone asked, moving around the table to look at the folder Danielle had opened before her.

"Look," Danielle returned, running her finger down it.

"What?" Jor asked curiously, tilting his head.

"It could be a cover," Simone protested, considering the dates. "If he called his mother _that_ consistently, I don't think he'd have defected."

"Turrell," Judas noted to Xane and Raul.

"We could ask her," Max suggested, looking to Trent.

"If it's not really his mother, he'll know we're onto him," Trent retorted, shaking his head.

"But that's when we go in like an old military buddy," Max protested, elbowing the guy companionably like an old friend. "If his papers say it's his mommy, then it's most likely that his friends would think it, too."

"But we can't pull that off," Trent protested, giving the other a startled look. "We were babes in arms when he was playing soldier-boy."

"He's not _that_ much older," Simone argued, looking up to them in confusion. "I think he joined as soon as he was eighteen and went to war."

They all looked to Jordan.

Jordan grinned, looking them all over before starting to shake his head.

"You get to figure it out," Simone noted helpfully. "We're just idea-tossing."

"I'm aware, thank you, love," he retorted rolling his eyes.

"Oooh, I'm telling Chai…" Riley noted, hopping from her seat with a wicked grin.

"Tell her I kinda want steak for supper while you're at it," Jordan retorted, giving her a look.

Riley giggled, moving to sit on the couch. They were in a meeting room that had a couch under the window, a long table with several chairs, and another couch against the far wall. They had been for a half an hour or better.

"So how the hell are we supposed to win the trust of people in African nations?" Judas demanded of Jordan as he looked the group over. "You don't even have anyone of African descent _here_."

"My main playground is Europe and Asia," Jordan retorted. "Besides, the testing to get this position has nothing to do with race. You're going, as far as we've talked right now , as missionaries or at the very least help…just like the Rest."

"You're going to overuse that ploy," Riley muttered, staring at the ceiling as she chewed at the end of a pencil.

"And then when I've done it twenty times they'll expect it and I can sneak a man in on the back-swing. Can't you trust that I know what I'm doing?"

"Not when I can't go play," Riley retorted, focusing on him.

"Can't you?" Jordan asked, as if confused. "I could have sworn I was sending you along as the catch-safe."

She blinked at him.

"So, anyway," he added, looking back to the rest of the group. "I'm putting these," he pulled out a series of small figurines from his pocket, "in Angels. I'm separating you into teams of two again."

They all turned to look at what he was holding, moving around properly to see him.

"I'm taking them out tonight…and sending you in tomorrow. Your teams will get a number and a clue…oh," he smiled at them. "I almost forgot. You'll also have members of Quatre's team with you."

They all looked at him blankly.

"I'm putting in my normal blockades, and I expect you to _work fully_ with your empath fellows. Here are some write-ups of the empath abilities," he tossed some packets on the table from his brief-case. "Read them, make them your lovers tonight so you know all about them for tomorrow. Winner and I will pair you up tomorrow morning before you go. You have until Friday," he added, looking them all over pointedly. "The first team in gets to have a week of special training with my comrade of choice. The last team in gets to go run the new babies through basic for a week. The empaths are not going to be punished either way, and I want you lot to try to teach them as much as you can about what we actually do here."

Xane scratched the back of his neck a moment, considering that. "How many fake figurines are there?"

"Five," Jordan returned, nonplussed as Trent and Max looked at each other.

"What's the punishment if we bring in fakes?" Xane met his superior's eyes.

"You get a month in basic," Jordan tilted his head.

"What's the leathality level?" Riley muttered, moving to the table to grab a packet.

"Shouldn't be one, unless you run into old enemies from before. You get to take into account your past dealings."

"What money do we get?"

"You'll see in the morning."

"How do we tell the difference between the real and the fake figurines?" Xane pressed, studying the things in front of the man.

"You're smart people, you'll figure it out."

"You're not putting me with Simone again, are you?" Judas asked, frowning at the man.

"Oh, nice," Simone retorted.

"Don't take it that way," Judas protested at her. "You know Quatre doesn't like you with me…I'm more worried about getting my ass kicked than anything."

Jordan flashed them both a grin and shrugged. "That's why both Quatre and I are will be teaming you up in the morning. He seems to feel you and Mouthy are threats to her…virtue or something."

Xane flashed the girl a grin. "I would be if she were interested."

Simone's cheeks colored very slightly as she gave him a dirty look.

"What's the rules on working together?" Judas added, looking around at his comrades.

"Don't do it," Jordan retorted. "If you start teaming up then you'll fly through this no problem. I'm trying to make you all work together and extend your camaraderie to the full group, not just the ones you trained with."

"But there's going to be one group with two of us," Xane protested, blinking at him. "You don't have five new recruits, remember? You're at three."

"The extras might just get paired with a couple empaths instead…and I think you'll be one of those."

"Are you sure you want me with empaths?" Xane asked, smirking at his superior.

"Any hanky-panky and I'll throw your ass back into basic for discipline."

Xane receded, though he was still amused.

"And don't even look smug like that," Jordan chided. "Quatre will read his men when we ask the questions and if you've done something with them we'll know."

Xane started laughing happily, sitting back and crossing his arms behind his head.

"You think," Jordan noted, assuming his second was figuring he could get away with it entirely. He shook his head and looked back to the rest. "Any more questions?"

"What's our danger loop?" Raul asked. "What resources do we have?"

"Resources? In Angels?" Jordan gave him a baffled sort of look. "I suppose you can get ahold of Jonathon…not you," he pointed at Xane, "and figure something out…if you _really_ have to."

"You're _still_ on about me and Jon?" Xane demanded of him in disbelief. "What is your _problem?_"

"Jonathon doesn't get to have any favors from you," Jor retorted irritably.

"What's this, now?" Simone asked, looking between the pair with interest.

"Breer fancies me," Xane explained, rolling his eyes. "Jor doesn't like it, so he makes everything more complicated for me. I guess he and Jon have their own pride game going on or something so that Jon _really_ wants me to owe him something and Jor can't let it lie."

"Breer may not be entirely bad now," Jor noted to the female, "but the first time he saw Yuy he asked me how much I waned for him."

The younger three stared at him in disbelief.

"And if he can get into Mouthy's bed, it's one better than me. I'm not going to let him win," he looked to his second levelly. "No matter _how_ immature it is. That's not for you lot to worry about, because me and Jon's games are me and Jon's games."

Xane rolled his eyes and looked away.

"So take your papers," he suggested, rising from his seat as he gestured at the table. "Get your affairs in order until Friday and then go do what you will to be ready. Two of you probably won't have a team-mate, so try to think really hard on how to use emotion reading to your benefit. I'm heading to Angels to play hide-and-seek, and I'll see you all at eight tomorrow morning…outside the main building."

"Sir," they muttered almost in unison as he closed his brief-case and winked at Simone.

"Wanna have lunch?" Xane called as he neared the door.

"Sure, let's go to my place," Jor agreed, then moved into the hall.

They all looked at Xane.

"What?" Xane asked blankly, looking back. "What did I do?"

They all exchanged looks, and went back to their tasks.


	49. 49

— 49 —

**March 3, A.C. 205. Base. 10am**

Wufei studied the human mountain in front of him with interest as the man eyed him skeptically. The men of the group were definitely polite to him, treated him with respect, but they seemed to think his size in comparison to theirs suggested an effortless win.

"Sir?" the guy asked.

"I'm trying to figure out the likely level of training you've had in hand-to-hand," Wufei explained.

"The little Asian guys will kick your ass," Tamming, one of Wufei's men, noted happily from the line he was in off to one side. "They're all wiry and stuff."

Wufei turned to give the guy a look. "I'm neither little nor wiry, Tamming."

The man flashed him a grin.

"He was raised by the highest kung-foo master of the colonies," Conway, one of the females noted, mocking a martial-arts pose.

"Conway, don't make me disown you," Wufei chided.

The female grin, then fell back to attention.

Evidently, his guys had gotten the same impression of the four as he himself.

They didn't take Wufei seriously.

Wufei sighed and stretched his arms up above his head before popping his neck–which made Conway titter–and fell into stance, studying the man in front of him. "First on the ground," he noted to the other.

"All right," the guy muttered, frowning slightly…and Wufei moved at him.

The…fight…as it were, didn't last very long. The man wasn't as stupid s he was coming off, evidently, because he did manage to avoid the first few moves, but before Wufei could even manage to think about losing his breath, the guy was on his back.

"Good," Wufei noted, moving back to take his stance again. "Again."

The man blinked at him, then picked himself up from the ground slowly.

"And…go," Wufei suggested…and moved again. The man tried to react to his motions instantly the second time around, which made it that much easier for Wufei to put him on his back…as his comrades shifted almost uncomfortably.

Wufei's team was silently waiting at attention. None of them cheered…or looked the slightest bit surprised.

"You're going to have to work on your response time," Wufei noted, considering the man with interest. "I'm thinking your hand-to-hand is limited."

"Sir," the guy agreed, picking himself up slowly from the dirt.

"So, let's go once more," Wufei suggested. "I want you to try and avoid my movements, not step into them…and then I'll set you up with Freeman."

"Sir!" Leroy Freeman called from his spot in line.

"Ready?" Wufei asked as the man processed what had been said, then nodded. "Go…"

- -

**March 3, A.C. 205. Base. 11 am**

"It has to be something in this area," Trowa muttered to Doug as the rest of his team studied the schematic being projected on the wall.

"But it could have been a defect," Doug argued, thinking back. "I mean…we thought something like this could happen so we made sure which parts we put where…"

"The only way to test that is to take more of those suits into the air," Trowa denied, focusing on him levelly. "I'm not putting any of you up in those suits."

"Even volunteers?" Doug demanded irritably.

"Especially volunteers," Trowa retorted, looking back to the machines. "They power up now right?"

"Yes, sir," Kuren noted, her eyes still on the projection.

"I want them ground tested again," Trowa noted, looking back to the schematics himself. "Lessorn, Mitner, you take that."

"Sir," the two men muttered, turning and heading back to the machines.

"I'm going to take this and look at it," Sifen muttered, moving up to the piles of papers. "I can't think out here," she gestured toward the lack of walls around them. "I'll be inside, you?" she added to Kuren.

"Yeah," Kuren agreed, moving forward herself to grab a set of papers.

"You going to stand here and stare at this?" Doug demanded irritably of Trowa.

"When I'm standing here staring at this," Trowa retorted, "I'm visualizing the damn mechanics and what they do. You seem to forget how long I've _worked_ on these machines."

"Of course," Doug agreed wryly. "Let's go watch the test," he added to Temms.

"Right," the guy agreed, following after with a few of the remaining people with him.

"I want to go check on Din and Lessin," Noss muttered, looking to Trowa. "Is that all right?"

Trowa waved him off without looking away from the pictures.

He took it as a personal offense that two of his machines had failed. He'd never had machines fail on him before, not when he had the full materials at hand to fix them…and he didn't want it to be an issue that affected his entire unit.

He was going to figure it out before Jordan needed the suits…even if Jordan hadn't said a word to him about it they both knew it was true.

A unit of machines had been stolen from Chile and while some were definitely on the black market, like the two from China, who knew if the rest had been taken to be used.

He wasn't failing Jordan…and he sure as _hell_ wasn't going to fail his men.

- -

**March 3, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

Quatre yawned tiredly as he left Bird's room with Paris a few steps behind him. They were both tired, though Bird seemed to be doing better for the companionship…without his necklace.

"I noticed that I start freaking out when I keep it on for a few days in a row," Paris muttered as they started down the stairs. "You?"

"As soon as I got used to having it on I wanted to take it off," Quatre returned, tilting his head. "My situation is different, though. I live with what I consider my family, so I like feeling them most of the time." He rolled his eyes as he said the last, since the previous night he definitely had _not_ appreciated feeling them.

Paris flashed him a grin, hooking his necklace back around his neck. "It seems like a bad idea to me to keep it on all the time…I'm so used to it guiding my social interactions…"

"Which is why you've been sleeping with Doe?"

"Illia is something else entirely," Paris retorted, almost offended by that. "Leave my girlfriend alone…it's not like you're not getting laid."

"You're right, I'm not," Quatre retorted, meeting his eyes pointedly. "Simone and I are taking things slow."

"You wish she'd hurry up," Paris retorted.

Quatre elbowed him.

Paris laughed a bit, then yawned. "You seen Gina or Varia lately?"

"Last time we had our meeting," Quatre returned, shrugging. "I'm assuming the ladies are exploring the situation fully on their own."

"So much for being our friends," Paris noted, frowning some. "Speaking of friends…aren't we going to do a group dinner again soon? I want to let Yuy know I'm dating that girl before he finds out other ways and attacks me for it."

"Don't be stupid," Quatre muttered. "You won't be critically injured for more than an hour."

Paris gave him a _very_ level look.

Quatre smirked at him. "I'll call it tonight," he noted, considering it. "Jor said something about steaks when we were leaving, so I can buy them and start barbequing them and Chai will probably help."

"All right," he muttered, sighing slightly. "You heading to lunch?"

"Yeah, just at the house…unless you wanna go eat."

"I'm meeting Illia," Paris shrugged slightly. "I was just making sure you weren't alone."

"If you recall, I like being alone," Quatre gave him a look.

Paris grinned at him and winked, then hesitated as they exited the M building. He sighed, looking to the sky a moment, then met Quatre's eyes again.

"I'm going to ask around this afternoon," Quatre muttered, looking to the grass. "If what you're saying is true, then I'm going to order that you have to sleep with the necklaces off."

"You sure you want us to do that?" Paris protested. "I mean, if someone brings someone home for the night…"

"I'll figure something out," Quatre waved that away as he started for his car. "Let's meet in my office at one," he added as he pulled his car door open. "We can work out the fine details."

Paris nodded, watching as he started to back out, then headed for his own car.

He seriously didn't want Yuy to attack him for messing with Doe. She was a sweet girl and she seemed reasonably fond of him…it wasn't like he was just using her. He'd let her know he'd be happy for a real relationship with her if she decided she wanted it…she'd even considered it a moment before dismissing it…

He grinned slightly to himself as he started his engine. She was a very _special_ girl.

- -

**March 4, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

"Reality is screwing with you," the man named Duane noted, looking Xane up and down. "And I'd love to play along."

"Watch out, he plays rough," Paris muttered, shoving him to the side. "What now? I want to be first, damn it."

"Then help me understand this shit," Xane muttered, tossing the notepad Jor had given him at the guy. He looked Duane up and down with a tilt of his head, then met his eyes. "I was told if I was naughty I'd get put in the corner."

Duane's eyes flashed wickedly.

Xane considered that a moment, then looked to Paris. "He told me that Quatre was going to be reading whoever I was with for the questioning. I got the impression that my being naughty would end badly."

"He can't fool Quatre," Paris agreed, gesturing at their companion with his thumb. "I can, but I'm not into your…entertainments," he looked his friend over with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Xane flashed him a wicked grin, then pulled the notepad back to himself, considering it. "School days new craze old school blood, too…" he tossed it at Duane as he thought. "It makes me think of school buildings…but…" he shook his head.

"The old school and school days kinda imply that," Paris note, looking around the street they were walking on. "But what's the bit about blood and crazes?"

"We should ask around about old schools," Xane muttered, running a hand along the back of his neck. "Or blood in relation to schools."

"But where at?" Duane asked, passing the notepad back to Paris. "Where do we start?"

"Well, I suppose it'd be the bar," Xane noted, considering things. "We can pull Jon aside and get him to give us a direction."

"Aren't you not supposed to do that?" Paris asked uncertainly.

"Mm, there's a bit of that in it…Jon likes to try to tempt me into more than what I offer, and if I start looking like I'll hedge he gets more willing to tell me things. I don't bother telling Jordan about it, though, because I'm not sure if it really fucks with their power…I'd never _really_ do anything with the man…but Jor is easily made uneasy about some things."

"Some things are worth it," Paris noted pointedly, looking the guy over with a vaguely raised eyebrow. "This is your game and I've never been to this bar…"

Xane held out a hand to stop the pair as a man with a bat stepped from an alley in front of them.

"What?" Paris asked nervously.

"One of you take off your necklace," Xane retorted, raising his eyebrows at the man.

"You seem to have money," the man noted, moving closer to them.

"Yes, we do," Xane agreed dryly. "You seem to have a death wish."

"Unless you've got a gun around you somewhere," the man muttered, looking him over skeptically, "then I'm the one armed."

Paris separated the magnet from the metal and tucked it into his pocket as Duane looked nervously from Jordan to the man attempting to accost them.

"How serious is he about this?" Xane asked Pairs, still studying the man.

"Fairly," Paris muttered, considering what he felt. "At least…it's easy."

Xane pulled out his firearm, aiming it at the man's head. "Is it easy now?"

The man stepped back, then again.

Xane cocked his weapon.

The man turned and ran for it.

"No, it's not easy now," Paris noted as he disappeared around a corner.

"Never show fear," Xane suggested to Duane as he uncocked his piece and tucked it away. "We aren't weak and they aren't going to win against us…don't let them think there's a chance they might."

"Sorry," Duane muttered, looking down.

"I want you to keep a perfectly serious face," Xane informed him. "Until we find where we're sleeping tonight, you don't show any emotion."

The guy blinked at him.

"That's an order," Xane noted, studying him. "Acknowledge."

"Sir," the guy muttered, looking uncertainly to Paris. He wasn't entirely sure that was allowed.

"We're in his lands and here so _he_ can train _us_," Paris noted. "He can give us those orders."

The guy frowned…and flinched hard when Xane hit him upside the head. He stared at the man in amazement.

"No emotion," Xane repeated seriously, then looked to Paris.

"Me, too?" Paris asked, focusing on not changing expression.

"You should be fine," Xane returned, taking the little notebook and tucking it into his back pocket. "Let's go."


	50. 50

— 50 –

**March 4, A.C. 205. Base. 12:30 pm**

Judas raised an eyebrow at Xane as he moved into the bar with Paris and the other guy.

"Fuck you," Xane muttered, laughing as he moved to join the other. "And I mean that."

Judas laughed and smacked his friend in the arm. "He's not seeing us for some reason," he added. "I haven't figured out why yet."

"Maybe Jor told him to back off?" Xane offered, tilting his head.

"Maybe, but we may not be the first ones here," Judas shrugged.

"I'm gonna go make a nuisance of myself," Xane noted, looking to the guard at the bottom of the stairs. "Come on up in five minutes."

"All right," Judas agreed, taking another drink from his glass.

"Wait here, you two," Xane ordered his followers, who looked around to the two guys with Judas, then moved to sit with them.

Xane bounced up to the bouncer and met his eyes, grinning slightly as he waited.

"No," the man ordered him.

"No, what?" Xane protested. "I didn't say anything yet."

"No, Mouthy," the man retorted, raising his hands to gesture the man back. "Go away from me."

"Don't," Xane protested, then crossed his arms and looked him up and down.

"Go away," the man protested, almost starting to laugh. "Don't…"

"You're gonna make me do it and you know it," Xane muttered, moving forward to lean against the door with one elbow and study the guy's eyes.

"Stop," the man protested, grinning slightly as he moved backwards out of the little space. "I'm gonna get you in the balls again…"

"Ah, but I know the move now…" Xane muttered darkly, suggestively, studying the man's eyes intently.

"Oh, go in," the guy muttered, sliding out of the way. "It's not my fault."

Xane laughed wickedly and slid in the door. The guy wasn't interested in males, but he wasn't homophobic. He was usually easy going with the flirting, finding it amusing…but Xane tended to take things over the top just for the laugh. That was beyond what the man was willing to deal with, and though he knew he was being manipulated and found it funny, he didn't have the wherewithal to deal with it.

The spy bounced up the stairs to the Jon's office and ran his fingertips across the door as he shoved it open.

"Hey!" Jon protested, rising to his feet in protest.

"Mouthy," Jordan muttered, raising his eyebrows at the guy.

Xane almost stopped to stare, then controlled it to grin at the man.

"What in the _world_ could you be doing _here?_" Jordan asked sweetly.

Xane flashed him a wicked grin, leaning backwards against the door. He was hoping this wasn't going to get him in trouble…he knew that his going to Jon in the past had actually caused his superior severe issues…

"I said not to let any of you in," Jon noted to him, grinning wickedly. "Did you knock him out a little?"

"How do you knock someone out a _little?_" Xane asked blankly.

Jordan grinned at that, giving his friend a brief look. "What are you doing here, second?"

"I came to ask you a question," he returned happily.

"Ask _me_ a question?" Jordan asked, obviously not believing.

Xane flashed him a grin. "What's another clue?"

"You think that'll work?"

"Yes?" Xane asked curiously.

Jordan raised his eyebrows.

"I knew you'd be here," Xane lied happily. "Why else would I have come?"

"You _damn_ well better mean that," Jordan noted, raising an eyebrow and moving across the room to the window to see down. "That's fun…guess who just walked in?"

"Riley?" Xane asked, moving to the window himself…to see Danielle and Trent moving into the bar and looking at Judas.

"You're guessing wrong today," Jor noted skeptically to him. "How ever are you going to win?"

"Hush," Xane muttered. "So what hint can I get from you?"

"I gave you my hint," Jordan returned.

"But it doesn't work."

"Actually, yours is probably the most obvious."

Xane tilted his head at the guy a moment, then looked out the window to his friends.

"You don't need nor get a hint," Jor added as Judas cautioned his two companions to wait. "I don't get why you didn't bring them up."

"Because Paris knows that you get annoyed with me for talking to Jon."

"It depends on the situation," Jordan agreed as the door at the bottom of the stairs opened.

"He wouldn't deck my guy, would he?" Jon asked skeptically.

"I don't know," Jor muttered, grinning slightly.

"I backed him down," Xane reassured him. "He probably didn't make too big an issue about letting Jude up."

"He knows I'm up here," Jordan noted.

"He was probably trying to warn me without saying it, then," Xane noted in amusement.

There was a tap on the door and it shoved open to reveal Judas, stopping to blink at Jordan.

"Yeah," Xane agreed with a grin. "That was my thought."

"Well, shit," Judas muttered, moving in and smiling. "Hi, Jon."

"Hi," Jon returned with a grin. "I told'im not to let you up."

Judas flashed him a smile.

"So…what hint do we get?" he asked his superior.

"You, I might consider offering…Mouthy, no."

Xane sighed at him, then moved away from the window and gave him a very brief hug. He rested against the guy a moment, then pulled away again and waved at Jon.

"Sorry," Jon muttered, smiling at him. "See you later, huh?"

"We'll do lunch," Xane agreed with a slight smile, then turned and started down the stairs.

"I was told not to say," the guard guy muttered to him as he passed.

"Yeah," Xane agreed. "Thanks anyway."

The guy smiled at him.

"Jor's up there," Xane muttered to Danielle. "He won't give me clue, though…let's go," he added to Paris.

Duane and Paris scurried to follow him from the bar.

"Well?" Paris asked as they moved back outside.

"He said mine is simple…which says we've talked about it. I don't get a clue, which means we have the information…so, let's go find somewhere to get lunch, and then we can go start talking to people about the schools."

Paris nodded as Duane looked back to the building, then nodded and moved to follow.

- -

**March 4, A.C. 205. Base. 2 pm**

"I just need the okay of your government to send a mission…just an assistance group to help set up a clinic and food dispenser."

The ambassador of Tanzania looked intrigued, but not suspicious.

"I know all types," Chance added, smiling at the man. "I have a friend who's wanted to get a help center in that area…I'm asking Mozambique, too…since I talk to both of you, you know? So if you can run the request, I'd seriously appreciate it."

"All right," the man muttered quietly, considering it a moment with a shrug. "I don't see it being a problem…there are some issues down around the river…and maybe you can slip someone in to look around?"

Chance feigned being startled by that, then perked up slightly. "That's a good idea…"

The same idea the Mozambique ambassador'd had, actually…

The man grinned slightly, then shook his head. "I'll see what I can do…have you made any progress?"

"No," Chance returned with a frown, considering the information. "I'm still trying to work on it…I'll let you know as soon as I figure anything out."

The man nodded and moved to offer his hand. They shook and muttered a few parting greetings before the ambassador turned and left the office.

Chance moved forward to lean against his hands against his desk, his thoughts dark. He hadn't wanted to slip Judas or Xane into those countries without someone to vouch for them, aside from the I.E.C. members. Some of the countries in the Earthsphere Union had only joined for self-preservation. They didn't look kindly on the coalition, they saw them as intruders, and a spy being caught in that situation could explode…and putting either Featihl or Ifhera in that position would instantly have Jordan himself in those countries, super ceding laws.

Jordan didn't _care_ about the laws. He jumped through the hoops and did their tricks only because it made it possible for him to do whatever the hell he wanted to…but he'd proven that he did not, in fact, have to concede to that higher power, and his full loyalty had always sat with his friends. He'd all but lost Xane once, and Chance doubted he'd ever let it happen again.

"So morose for a plan that worked beautifully," Quatre muttered wryly, moving into the office and shutting the door after himself. He'd been in the adjacent room to read the emotions of both ambassadors. "I'd think you'd be happy at your triumph."

"Dark thoughts, Cat," Chance returned, turning his head to look at the guy. "My plan _did_ work, but the idea of what could go wrong here is telling."

"What could go wrong?" Quatre returned blankly, moving to drop in the seat the ambassador had been occupying. "It's Mouthy and Jude…I mean, seriously."

"Don't be so complacent," Chance grumped, looking away. "You know that if either of them get into trouble, Jor will go for them."

"I'd imagine we all would," Quatre returned, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose we can't really celebrate until both governments come back with a positive response, huh?"

"Pretty much," Chance muttered, pushing away from the desk.

"Okay, _fine_," Quatre muttered, shoving back. "You brood, I'm playing normal," he pulled out his necklace and clicked it around his neck.

"Why don't you just take off the magnet?" Chance asked him blankly, studying him. "It'd be easier than taking it all off all the time."

Quatre gave him a level look and snapped the magnet to the metal.

"No, seriously," Chance protested.

"Paris does that," Quatre returned, situating the necklace better around his neck. "I don't want to copy him."

"It's expedience," Chance returned, raising an eyebrow. "You know it is."

"Yes, but I didn't think of it," Quatre replied, rising to stretch. "You know me well enough to know that I won't play lamb."

"Sheep," Chance corrected, raising an eyebrow.

"Baa," Quatre retorted, starting for the door. "Let's go get some coffee."


	51. 51

— 51 —

**March 5, A.C. 205. Base. 8 am**

"_Please_ tell me we're first," Xane muttered as he moved into Jordan's living room.

Jordan turned to look at him blankly from where he was sitting in boxers, eating something that involved a tortilla. "What?"

"Are we first?" Xane demanded as Duane hesitated in the door. He'd been to the parties enough that the house wasn't unfamiliar to him, but he'd never been there when a superior wasn't even dressed.

"Morning, Jor," Paris muttered happily, moving around the man to sit on the couch next to him and steal a bit of tortilla as he studied the plate. "I'm _starving_."

"What?" Quatre asked grumpily, moving from his room and stopping. "Oh…Pair…"

"Winner," Duane saluted quickly…and noted that the man was also in boxers.

"Don't play formal when I'm not even awake," Quatre retorted, waving that away as he yawned, then rubbed at his elbow. "What's going on?"

Xane pulled two figurines from his pockets, displaying them at the man with a flair.

Quatre blinked at him.

"Give me," Jordan ordered, extending one hand backward…then stopping to smack Paris as he went for more food. "Get your own."

"Is there any more _made?_" Paris retorted, looking a bit offended.

"Yes, there is," Chai agreed from the kitchen, sounding amused. "Don't come back yet, though. I'm not dressed."

"She's in my shirt," Jor noted with a smirk to the man.

"You're so lucky," Paris muttered dryly to Quatre.

"What?" Simone asked from behind Quatre.

Paris' eyebrows arched high.

"Don't be crass," Quatre muttered, smirking briefly at his friend…as Chai darted into her bedroom.

"I'm gonna come right out and say that I'm not entirely comfortable with all this," Duane noted, blinking back to Jordan. "Does she always do that?"

"With me and Cat it doesn't matter," Jor retorted, rolling his eyes as he took the figurines from Xane. He blinked at one, then the other, then back up to his second.

"What?" Xane asked nervously.

They'd found an abandoned school that'd had some gang-fights to find one of the little statues the previous afternoon, but Xane hadn't been completely content with that. He'd made sure they went out and found the other object.

He didn't relish the idea of training new recruits…at all.

The second figure had been in a park.

"You brought them _both?_" Jordan demanded of him levelly.

"You said not to bring the wrong one, and you didn't say which one was wrong."

"What_ever_," Jordan retorted, offended. "If you couldn't figure out that the one in the park…"

"How?" Xane retorted. "You had two references to school and two to something else."

Jordan rolled his eyes.

"They didn't live in Angels, baby," Chai reminded her husband as she moved from her bedroom with pajama pants on. "You can't expect them to know the local culture."

"I suppose," Jor muttered, rolling his eyes.

"In case he hadn't said," she added, looking to Xane. "You _are_ first…are you hungry?"

"Starving," Xane agreed, following her toward the kitchen as Paris did as well.

"You suck," Quatre noted to Jordan, then moved back into his room and closed the door.

Jordan grinned slightly, then went back to his _very_ good breakfast.

- -

Xane and Paris happily crashed on the floor while Duane dubiously joined them. They'd slept poorly in an empty apartment overnight, and had woken up early. This had been followed by finding the second figurine before walking from the center of Angels to the bar. Jon had informed them that they'd walked as far as they had without him, and that he _really_ wasn't supposed to be helping them, so they could cover the short remaining distance to the Rest and Xane's car…which they'd then done.

As the morning progressed into afternoon, Judas moved in with his two guys, demanding if they were first before spotting Xane and his companions on the floor and sighing heavily. Quatre's guys there had decided they wanted their own beds and left Judas to shove his way between Xane and Judas so Chai didn't have to get another mattress. She wouldn't have let him get it or her husband…and if she had, she'd protest them trying to get their own bedding…so he'd made Paris deal with it since Xane probably didn't give a damn either way.

As afternoon wore on to evening, Riley and Max moved into the house with sighs. When Chai had supper well underway, Danielle and Trent moved in…before finally, Raul and Simone showed up with Carson Bird.

Carson had been the man of Quatre's team to start having a breakdown, and he'd insisted he'd recovered enough to go on the outing, but Raul quietly noted to the blond that it didn't really seem to be the case.

"I'm glad, really," Jor noted quietly to Xane when everyone else had settled in the living room to eat. "I didn't really want any of you going to train with basic for a week, let alone two of you."

Xane nodded.

"Come on," Jor added, turning and leading his second in. "As I promised…you get my comrade of choice to train with," he indicated Chance, Quatre, Wufei, and Trowa with a sidelong gesture.

The four looked at him curiously.

"Okay, is that _my_ choice?" Xane asked, blinking at them.

"Yes, it is," Jor agreed, dropping onto the couch.

"What am I weak in?" Xane asked him curiously, studying him with interest. "I mean…"

"According to Paris you were fine with them," Quatre noted. "Not that I don't want you hanging around, but I doubt you need me for anything."

Xane grinned at him.

"Me, I'd imagine," Chance noted, considering him with interest. "Or Trowa. According to Wufei you're damn good with the hand-to-hand."

"I'd almost rather go with him," Xane mused, thinking about it.

"It's your reward," Chance reminded him. "You get to pick which skill you want honed."

"I'm trying to be logical…" Xane muttered, shaking his head.

"How were Paris and Duane?" Quatre asked him, tilting his head.

"What?" Xane blinked at him, then shrugged. "They were fine as far as we needed them to be. They reacted exactly how I needed them to."

Quatre studied him levelly a long moment, then turned to look at Paris.

"What?" Paris asked blankly. He'd been happy with the praise, and hadn't even thought that his superior might have his necklace off…the chain was still on his neck, and Quatre usually removed that. It only served to reason, really…

"You were all proud of yourself," Quatre returned, "and he's nervous," he pointed at Duane.

"We were just praised," Paris noted, looking around to the other occupants of the room with his eyes.

"Yeah," Quatre considered the floor a moment, then looked to Duane pointedly.

"Yeah?" Duane asked, sitting up slightly.

"You don't have to do that," Paris muttered, sagging slightly where he sat.

"I don't trust Mouthy as far as I could throw his fat-ass," Quatre retorted. "Plus, he was making all sorts of suggestive comments…one reason I had you with him. You know how to re-direct his energies."

Paris flashed him a grin and avoided looking at Xane at all.

"Did Featihl try anything inappropriate?" Quatre added, looking back to Duane. He was reading the guy as he spoke. There was a flicker of something almost like guilt.

"Hey!" Xane protested, straightening.

Quatre raised a hand, palm-out to the guy.

"No," Duane muttered, meeting Quatre's eyes almost uncomfortably. "I was teasing him some here and there…but there was nothing inappropriate."

"So now…I'm gonna go with Wufei," Xane noted, looking around to him. "I like what I've learned this far and…"

"Did Featihl manipulate you?" Quatre asked Duane, ignoring the other.

"Of _course_ he did," Paris protested. "What are you getting all serious on us for?"

"Because if I don't cover my bases and make sure you're all safe," Quatre returned, looking to his friend, "then when shit goes down I'm thrown under the truck."

"I didn't do anything," Xane said quietly, studying Quatre seriously. "We were on a mission and he had to rely on me. I wasn't going to…abuse that trust," Xane looked to Jordan. "You know that, don't you? I…you know me…"

"It's not my matter," Jordan noted quietly.

"Can't you defend me?" Xane demanded of him irritably, crossing his arms.

"I know I don't have to," Jordan returned, tilting his head slightly. "I know you wouldn't do anything inappropriate, despite our jokes. Quatre has to be sure, though, and Quatre deals with his own men."

Xane looked away.

"He kept us safe," Duane noted, looking from Xane to Quatre. "There was an instance when a man tried to rob us and he made sure we were safe. There was an instance where a man was watching us closely and he warned them off…he found us a place to sleep that was relatively warm and spent most of the night awake to make sure we stayed safe."

Quatre nodded at him approvingly, then looked to Paris.

"He made Werey keep his physical reactions under control," Paris noted. "I think if they train together more he'd be able to help Werey control himself better."

"Is that your last name?" Jordan asked Duane with a curious look. "I thought you were West."

"No, West was with Jude," Xane muttered, shaking his head.

"I take it that you two aren't lying to me," Quatre noted, looking between the pair. "With Maxwell's permission, you can train more with Featihl," he added to Duane. "And…the two of you get Monday off."

Paris' face lit with a wicked grin and he turned to look at Chance.

"What?" Chance asked, taken aback.

"I've been sleeping with Illia," he noted.

Chance blinked at him.

"As your friend, can I ask a favor of you?" Paris added happily.

"What?" Chance asked warily, looking the man over skeptically.

"Can she have Monday off?"

Chance narrowed his eyes at him.

"Oh, come on," Paris protested, moving in closer to him. "There's…Triad Key is in Remington tomorrow night and she's _dying_ to go."

"You want me to give my girl Monday off so she can go to a concert tomorrow?" Chance asked him blankly.

"Come _on_, Chance," Paris muttered, looking to the ceiling. "What can I offer you?"

"Watch my kid," Chance returned promptly.

Paris focused on him.

"My wife wants me to take her to Sins," Chance noted, studying his eyes. "We won't come back until three or four in the morning, and our son needs to be at our house. Watch my kid."

Paris blinked at that.

"Tonight," Chance added, looking to his watch as his leg started to bounce. He pressed his foot back to the floor, meeting the man's eyes.

"You're joking, right?" Jordan asked him blankly.

"No, I'm not," Chance returned, meeting his eyes curiously. "He baby sits for me tonight, he gets laid by Doe tomorrow, Monday morning they sleep in and I turn a blind-eye to Doe not showing up when I call them to me before roll-call. Any problems?"

"A few," Jor noted, raising an eyebrow. "None to voice in mixed company."

"Yeah, fuck you," Chance returned, then looked back to Paris.

"Just stay at your house with your boy until you get home?" Paris persisted.

Chance nodded.

"You're wrong, you know that?" Wufei muttered, then moved to head into the kitchen.

Chance watched him go, rolled his eyes, then looked back to Paris.

"All right," Paris agreed. "I'll have to call her and tell her…can she come over?"

"After my boy is sleeping, I don't care as long as he doesn't get woken up and the house isn't mussed."

A flicker of a grin crossed Paris' face and he nodded his agreement.

"I'm gonna go tell her," he noted, hopping to his feet. "Thanks for supper, Chai. It was wonderful."

"It's no problem," she reassured him with a smile…and he darted from the room.

"What?" Trowa asked blankly, looking around. "Am I the only one dumb?"

"I think so," Quatre noted, focusing on him. "Granted, I've got the magnet off the necklace or I probably wouldn't have followed that one either."

"Why is he wrong and stuff for taking his wife out?" Trowa added, gesturing after him.

"He's taking his wife to Sins," Quatre noted, rising to his feet with a slight grin. "Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Maybe, if Jor didn't do the same thing."

Jordan flashed him a grin, then looked back to Xane. "You talk to Wufei about when he wants you to show up."

"I wanna go to the concert," Chai noted, looking to her husband curiously.

He blinked at her. "You know the group?"

"I've seen some music videos," she agreed. "I hear them on the radio."

He stared at her in complete confusion.

"What?"

"Why are you only mentioning this _now?_" he returned.

She gave him an arch look.

"So…" Jor looked to Paris. "Looks like we're going to the concert."


	52. 52

— 52 —

**March 11, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

The remaining week passed quietly as Trowa and Wufei packed up their apartment. Aside from training with Wufei in the mornings, Xane would take Duane around the base in the afternoons.

Things were quiet, relaxed…smooth.

"Lieutenant Generals," the ambassador of Tanzania muttered, moving into Jordan's office. "Good afternoon, good afternoon…"

"Hello," Chance returned, grinning at the guy.

"Can I help you?" Jordan asked curiously.

"Actually, I was looking for General Yuy here," he indicated the man. "You're on lunch now, right?"

Chance nodded.

"Wonderful," the man returned, moving to sit next to him in the second chair. "I just wanted to let you know that my government approved the help mission you were asking me about. They said that they'd gladly accept your assistance…but to caution your men that the area is disturbed."

"Of course," Chance agreed, sitting up straighter. "Wonderful…thank you for letting me know."

"I was excited, truth be told," the man muttered, looking to Jor with interest a moment before focusing back on Chance. "Have you thought more about my suggestion? Will you send men in to look around?"

Jordan guffawed internally, though he didn't allow anything to show on his face.

"I can see that working to both our benefits," Chance agreed quietly. "I have a man in mind, his second," he indicated his friend. "Would you like to meet him?"

"He's on lunch," Jor refuted. "I'm not calling him back in right now because he's heading out to his parents' place."

"Ah," the ambassador looked slightly let down.

"There's always a chance for death," Jor informed the man. "I let my men see their families before I send them on missions. I wasn't sure they'd be needed, but I thought I'd act while I had the chance."

That, and Xane, Judas, and Riley were going no matter what the governments said.

The ambassador nodded.

"And they've recently come back from other missions," he added, looking to his friend again. "I figured they probably missed their families."

Chance nodded.

"So Featihl will be leaving this afternoon," Jor added, looking back to the ambassador.

"Featihl," the ambassador mused, thinking. "Isn't he the man who was grabbed last year? The man used as a hostage?"

"Yes," Jordan agreed darkly, then looked away. Much like his second, he also preferred not to think about that particular incident.

"I'll get the forms to you," the ambassador added to Chance, "so your friend can fill it out. How is Mrs. Maxwell?" he added, looking back to Jordan.

"She's fine," Jordan reassured him with a slight smile. "She's starting to get bored now, though, so I suggested she put her nose in other people's business."

The man laughed a little at that, looking to Chance. "And Mrs. Yuy?"

"Breathtaking," Chance returned promptly.

The ambassador smiled at that. "I meant how she was doing…"

Chance grinned at that and nodded. "She's well…expecting me any minute now, actually," he added, looking to his watch.

"My apologies," the ambassador muttered, rising to his feet and offering his hand to the guy. "Thank you for your time."

"I'm glad to help," Chance reassured him, rising to his feet. Jordan had risen to his feet as well, and the pair of them exchanged greetings before the ambassador turned to leave.

"Let's go," Jordan suggested, grabbing his car keys and heading toward the door. "I need to meet Mouthy for lunch before he goes…Judas and Rile already left."

"Now that we have the okay," Chance noted, "we just have to figure out how long Riley will take to get the feel of the area, huh?"

"It should take her two days," Jor noted, waiting in the hall for his friend to follow him out before making sure the door was locked and closing it behind them. "I didn't think it'd really be that easy to get those governments to cooperate."

"It suggests to me that they're out of their elements," Chance noted. "Let's hope and pray that Xane and Judas aren't out of their element…or at the very least that Riley isn't."

"I think they should be all right," Jor returned. "You've got some of your guys to go, right?"

"I did," Chance agreed. "Mario and a few others…so they'll have reliable people with them."

"Wufei's got a couple of his guys in the group too…on top of the actual help group. As long as the guys can coordinate, we'll have a good background network for Riley to work out of…"

"And you?" Chance asked, studying his friend. "I know you've been plotting something."

Jordan sighed as they started down the stairs. "I get to go to Chile, it seems like."

"Really?" Chance was taken aback.

"You wanna come with me?" Jor asked, stopping to meet his eyes. "That will make Chai feel better, and with the guys across the street from them and Quatre in my place…"

Chance considered it a moment, then shrugged. "What's our aim?"

"I'm going to find Turrell's mother," Jordan noted. "I'm going to see if she _is_ his mother, and I'm going to see if she has any idea where he's at now."

"I guess we have to start somewhere," Chance agreed dryly.

"Hey, man, we're gonna be old buddies of his who lost contact and were in the area," Jor noted. "I'll get you the notes I'll need you to memorize before it's too late."

"What if he sold them?" Chance asked quietly. "If he sold them off and has no idea where they are now?"

Jordan shrugged, looking away as they started across the lobby. "We have to start somewhere."

- -

**March 12, A.C. 205. Base. 3 pm**

"Here we go," Wufei added, setting Trowa's last box on his bed and looking around the front bedroom. "We've got _our_ shit moved in."

"You're so smart," Trowa returned, grinning briefly at the guy as he took the box from the bed and moved it onto a pile he had to one side. "You wanna go half and half on furniture?"

"We should just give the girls money and let them do it," Wufei muttered, looking back to the living area.

The apartment they'd all lived in had been furnished before they'd moved in, so the furniture wasn't theirs. They'd realized it the previous day, and had enough forethought to go buy new beds…but that was as far as it'd gone. They had _their_ blankets, but no other bedding or even dressers.

Actually, it kind of amused them.

"Let's just go steal Chance's SUV," Tro suggested. "If the women come with the deal we can play completely clueless."

"I don't know about you," Wufei muttered, moving happily from the room, "but I _am_ completely clueless."

Trowa snorted as Wufei moved from the room. "Don't I know it."

"Hey!" Wufei protested.

Trowa started laughing, and turned to get his boots on.

- -

**March 16, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

"Just be sure to call her or Danielle," Jordan summed up to everyone as they sat around his living room. "I want you to keep the times of calling the house. I don't plan to be gone more than a few days, but it could crash hard and fast. Chai and Danielle will keep in touch with Riley on a daily basis, and Chai will call me daily," he looked them all over. "Tomorrow, I'm sending Riley, and we'll leave Friday," he indicated himself and his second. "You lot," he indicated the guys from Wufei and Chance's teams, "stay with the mission. Remember, you're just back-up if it's necessary. We don't know what's going on in these two countries, but there's something throwing up sparks. We don't wanna be catching fire," he looked back to his team. "For the rest of you, I'd love it if you'd check on my wife while I'm gone…"

"How chivalrous," Chai noted sarcastically to Shin. "Not only do we have Quatre living here, but Trowa and Wufei across the street, and he's still sending people to check on us."

That got the guys to grin at her.

"You'd think he'd be setting them on me, the only man I have in the house barely stands to my waist."

Chai smirked.

"Good point," Jordan noted, still serious as he pointed at her and looked back to the people. "I want my wife and Shin to be comfortable…but safe. I know we're on the base and all that jazz, but I get antsy when I'm not there to make sure things are going good. I therefore delegate to you," he indicated Raul, "to keep the women happy."

Raul pulled at the collar of his shirt. "That's a generous…but I'm not sure I can keep up with both…"

…and everyone started laughing as Jordan smacked him with a pillow.

- -

**March 18, A.C. 205. Airplane. 10 am**

Jordan stretched back in his seat as Chance focused out the window. Neither had been looking forward to their flight, though it was noticeably not as bad as their flights could get. They'd been in the air an hour.

"What're you thinking?" Chance asked, not looking away from his view.

"I was going to sleep," Jor retorted.

"You were thinking something."

"Sure I was, nothing to share with you, though."

Chance snorted, turning his head briefly in acknowledgement.

"You?"

"Wondering about the state of the world where me and you are going on a mission like new privates."

"Spare me," Jor retorted, turning his head to study his companion. "They don't send new privates on missions."

Chance flashed him a slight grin, looking back out the window.

"You've been all morose," Jor half chided. "Why are you all morose?"

"I've been trying to help two countries figure out why their border has gone to shit without any official capacity. My wife just about fainted when I told her we could go to a concert, your wife had a breakdown about getting pregnant…something has been _up_ with Trowa for the last month or two…and we're going to Chile."

"What's up with Trowa?" Jor asked blankly.

"I don't know," Chance noted distantly. "He hates being alone, and with Wufei running around doing the empath stuff, he was alone a lot. Right before I moved out, I could smell vrit in the house…does the smell stick to clothes?"

"No," Jordan noted, sitting up slightly. "Especially since most clothing now is made to keep smells from sticking anyway."

Chance nodded, frowning some. "That means he was probably smoking it in the house…and that day you and Chai were first fighting Quatre called us to the canteen so he could mention that and make us all agree to go up to L-4 for Easter…and Tro was asking about breaking addictions."

"Huh," Jordan muttered, thinking back. "You remember that day…the first time we met with the ambassador? It was a Saturday…and after it, Doug'd showed up and was all bothered that Tro was there? Quatre was saying something about it."

"Oh yeah," Chance muttered. "And then he took off and Tro was all pissy."

They considered each other a long moment.

"Should we snoop or ask him?" Jor asked, considering it. "I'm not so sure how to deal with him anymore."

"Hm," Chance returned quietly. "When you were gone we left each other alone entirely. We fell back into our old patterns and now we're working out of that, you know how to deal with him just as much as I do."

"You want me to ask, then?" Jor returned, considering it.

"Yeah," Chance agreed. "I don't want to say anything to Wufei because he's just oblivious to this sort of thing and Quatre has other things going on…and if I do it, it'll be too much an accusation. It's evened out now, but there was a long time when I was just dominant…I'm not sure how I got more rank than them, but it is what it is."

"Because I wasn't there to deflate your ego," Jor noted, grinning slightly. "They just listen to you because we used to go at it like dogs and that'd carry to them…you'd attack them just as fast as you'd attack me for a while. You had to be handled with kid gloves back then, remember? I think it's probably just their reaction."

"You can be damn offensive sometimes, do you know that?"

"What? Saying we fight like dogs? You remember shoving me and me punching you? _How_ many times has that happened between us? Shit, I saw a bruise on my second's face and attacked you without knowing if you did it or not."

"I meant more that I've cowed them," Chance retorted.

"And didn't you?" Jor tilted his head slightly at the other. "You only outrank me now because I ran off for five years. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't be able to give me orders and expect me to listen."

"I don't expect you to listen to my orders," Chance seemed amused by that.

"You do, and I do it."

Chance flashed him a brief smirk, looking back out the window.

"I hope this doesn't take too long," Jor added, settling back again. "I don't think I'm going to do this job much longer, it sets my jaw…I'm gonna run out of molar if I have another week of my guys being out."

"What else would you do?" Chance asked him blankly, shifting more toward the window to see the ground better.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Jor protested at him, giving him a mildly disgusted look. "Why do you stare out it like that?"

"I miss flying," Chance explained with a sigh, looking out to the blue skies. "I miss being able to just…_go_."

"It _was_ nice to just fly off," Jordan agreed, thinking back to the day they'd all been piloting Trowa's machines. "I really miss finding some secluded bit of jungle or forest to hunker down in and camp out…having to watch my own back, you know?"

"I prefer having you lot to rely on," Chance denied. "I don't like what I was back then."

"I liked what you were," Jor teased, grinning slightly at the other. "You were so _strange_…it was interesting."

"Haha," Chance retorted, giving him an arch look.

"You _know_ you don't want me to change," Jordan accused. "Don't even play at that."

"I think the jury's out on that one," Chance gave him a look.

Jordan flashed him a grin.

"Is it weird to you that you're back on base and married?" the other asked curiously, thinking about it. "I think it's weird that I have a _son_…and I'm married in my own place. Does it seem strange to you?"

"No," Jordan returned, looking to the buttons above his head. "I lived with her for years, so the only real difference now is that we're having sex and we have money."

"I still don't get how you two weren't sleeping together before," Chance noted, considering the first morning he'd been with the pair. Jordan had been heading to work and kissing the woman like she was his girl.

"It was…easy…and the hardest thing I've ever done…it wasn't like I didn't bring girls home or she didn't bring guys home…though she did stop after a while."

"She wanted to be with you."

"She didn't have any contraceptives," Jordan denied. "It's easy enough to say she loved me and wanted to be with me, and it wouldn't have really been a lie, but she only stopped sleeping around because she didn't want to get pregnant."

The thought made him sigh, because she _still_ didn't want to get pregnant.

"She's just scared," Chance reassured him, understanding that as he looked back out the window. "Shin explained to me that Chip had been normal for an Angels girl in all ways but me being there. My paying her bills made her life easier on some levels and harder on others."

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, considering the matter a moment. "Are you two planning on having another?"

"Yeah," Chance agreed. "I probably shouldn't just up and tell you that, though."

Jor snorted.

"If she turns up pregnant in the next week or two we're going to do a paternity test before she decides to carry it though."

"You are so _weird_," Jordan noted, turning his head to look at the man. "Did you two _honestly_ go into the back room?"

Chance flashed him a wicked grin and shook his head.

"No what?" Jor retorted.

"We're not talking about that," Chance explained, gesturing between them as he focused back out the window. "It's none of your business…and honestly, I went and saw her and left you at the bar for a couple hours…seriously."

Jordan shook his head, not understanding how that one worked. He might entertain ideas of other ladies briefly, just for a lark…but, he had no interest sleeping with any other woman, let alone any _man_.

"You'd have to be there, I think," Chance noted, turning his head to focus on his friend briefly. "You won't understand it from the outside looking in."

"I have no real _urge_ to understand it," Jordan retorted. "Don't even get any ideas up in that fucked up head of yours."

Chance laughed at that and elbowed him.

Jordan grinned, then settled back in his seat again. "So…what do we talk about now? I think we covered our gambit of serious shit."

"Oh, I'm sure we could go into fine details on any of it," Chance noted with a sigh. "But this conversation was more than enough of a downer for one plane ride. We should steal a shuttle on the way back."

Jordan turned to _look_ at him in disbelief.

"What?" Chance asked curiously, blinking at him as if his comment was perfectly mundane.

"You are _beyond_ special," Jordan informed him, studying his face. "Way _**beyond**_ special."


	53. 53

— 53 —

**March 19, A.C. 205. Arica, Chile. 11 am**

"Mrs. Turrell?"

"Yes?" the pleasantly plump woman returned, giving Jordan a curious look.

Jordan smiled at her as Chance followed him closer. "Hi…my name is Tyler Donn," he extended a hand. "I…served with your son…Stan…down in Coquimbo…back during the wars."

"Did you really?" she gave him a startled sort of look, then glanced at Chance.

"This is Burion…Dane Burion. We were stationed with your son during the wars."

She looked between them both happily. "How can I help you?"

"Well," Jordan returned, shifting where he stood slightly. "We were meeting up with some old friends…and, well, I remember Turrell called you a lot…and we've lost track of him."

"That's surprising," she muttered, looking taken aback. "He's been living in China for a few years now."

That made them both pause.

"It's warm," she mused, looking around. "Come in, come in," she moved aside to bustle them through the doorway. "Have a seat, I'll get us some lemonade."

"That would be wonderful," Jordan noted, watching as she bustled off into the kitchen.

"Dane Burion?" Chance hissed at him. "What the hell?"

"Hush," Jor retorted. "It works as well as Tyler Donn."

Chance shook his head, rolling his eyes as they sat carefully on her couch.

"Don't mind this old woman," Mrs. Turrell added, moving back in with a tray…with the pitcher and glasses.

That was surreal…

"…Stan is a good son," she added happily, offering a glass to Jor and pointing at Chance. Jor passed it down obediently as she poured him a glass and passed it over. "He calls me every other week to make sure I'm all right," she continued, filling her own glass. "I'm not understanding _how_ you could lose contact with him…he's always on the phone with his friends…"

"He has a lot?" Chance asked with a bright smile.

She laughed and made a gesture at him. "He has more friends than I can count, I couldn't even begin telling you names…"

"He tells you their names?" Jor asked blankly.

"Some of them," she agreed with a smile. "I ask him who's calling him and he'll usually say."

That…might be worth tapping the woman's phone…

"I can't say I remember you two…what were your names?" she gave them both confused looks.

"Tyler Donn," Jordan repeated. "Dane Burion."

"Huh…" she shook her head and made a gesture. "I'm getting old, that's all…so I take it you two want to get ahold of him?"

"I was hoping he'd be here," Jor noted, taking a drink from his glass.

"He hasn't lived here since…oh…I think he moved in one-nine-eight. When _was_ the last time you talked to him?"

He'd defected in one-nine-eight…

"I think it was in one-nine-seven," Jor muttered, considering it.

"About then, when we were all sent home," Chance agreed, noting to himself that he'd been seventeen or so at that point and eighteen when the man had defected.

If she didn't note that they looked young he'd definitely take the wary-stance on the matter.

The woman laughed at him, flashing him a very bright smile and looking back to Jordan. "You couldn't have _really_ served with him…you don't look _nearly_ old enough…"

"You know, when that's said to a woman, it's really flattering," Jor noted to Chance. "But to an adult male…"

The woman laughed again, shaking her head.

"I take care of my skin," Chance noted, putting on a mock-huffy expression.

The woman laughed again.

"So," Jordan noted, looking back to the woman. "I have to ask…were you even _legal_ when you had him?"

She gave _him_ a look, though it was obviously amused.

Jordan flashed her a grin, then looked around the house. "Are you home alone?"

"Unfortunately," she agreed with a sigh. "When Stan's dad passed away…" she shook her head sadly. "He was so sad. I think that's why he decided to join the military."

The nodded, pretending to have actually noticed the man's father was dead.

That was a stupid thing to overlook…and Chance intended to let Jordan know it.

"I just wanted to drop in and get his number from you," Jordan mused, looking around again. "But…do you have family in the area? Anyone to help you?"

"Oh, don't worry yourself about me," she muttered, pointing at a rifle standing in the corner behind the door. "I can take care of myself."

He smiled at that a bit. "I more meant if you had any repairs you needed done."

Her face _lit_. "Really?"

He shrugged and nodded. "I'm sure the two of us could figure stuff out."

"Why don't you tell me what you want for supper?" she asked, her eyes still sparkling. "You might be here a while."

Chance put on a mock-sigh, then grinned and took another drink from his cup. "Keep this coming and I suppose it won't be too bad an issue…"

Jor elbowed him.

The woman flashed them both a grin, then raised a hand to her mouth. "If it's not a bother…I don't want to impose…the yard is looking a little sloppy…and I do have stuff out and about the yard."

"No problem at all," Jordan agreed, thinking back to his car where he had his bits and pieces of equipment.

He was going to tap her damn phone and pray that Stan called her while they were there. It was a one in a million chance…that probably wouldn't end well…but all they needed was his location.

Jordan doubted highly that the man was in China…but if even that _was_ the case, China was a very _large_ country.

- -

**March 21, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 12 pm**

Xane considered the building he was walking by with interest, noting how many cars were in the driveway and plotting out the most likely lay of the land around the place. He'd followed a man to the building after a questionable incident at the new mission building they were setting up.

It seemed that their intrusion into the city had bugged some of the inhabitants. There'd been a handful of city officials converging on them with demands on what they were doing, and they'd been eyed suspiciously as they set up. They had the full blessing of the Tanzanian government, though, so the officials couldn't say anything.

That didn't mean nothing would come of it, and Xane was _damn_ glad he had some of Chance and Wufei's guys to help. He wasn't really worried about _himself_, because if he really _had_ to get out, he had Riley…and Judas was just across the river. There were other people in his group, though, that had nothing to do with his endeavor and really _were_ just there to help.

The spy focused back on his path as if he'd only glanced at the house to check for cars, moving along quickly in front of the place.

He couldn't wait to start talking to the locals. The sooner he got to the root of the problem, the better. He'd been having fun training with Simone, Trent, and Max. It had been nice to be back with Raul, Riley, and Danielle…let alone Judas or Jordan.

And it didn't help in the slightest that he really _missed_ Chao…badly. It'd been just over a month since the man's arrest, and Xane still found himself reaching for the man in his sleep…and if there actually someone at the end of his searching arm, it wasn't who he wanted…

Xane shook that off quickly, turning a corner as he noted a bus stop and the bus down the road. He needed to get back to Mario or the man might flip his lid. The guy was already irritated that there was no way he could get Alek with him on the mission because it was half mission and half cause, rating a high lethality risk…Xane didn't need to rile him any further.

Besides, next to his own team, it was nice to have Chance's guy on hand. He and Mario had always gotten along. …and Mario was strong, a definite shield.

Xane shook his head, partially disgusted by that thought. He'd gone most of his life being the dominant force in any group or pairing. _He'd_ been that same shield that people relied on and needed…and after two months of a relationship built on lies, he _wanted_ to be the vulnerable one.

…maybe James was single, maybe James would take him back.

Xane looked across the street darkly, wondering how badly that really _would_ piss Jordan off…and Chance, really. He wouldn't do it, he knew he wouldn't go back to the guy and doubted James would _have_ him back regardless…

He smiled to himself as he hopped on the bus and tossed the requisite amount of change into the counter before going to drop tiredly onto a bench. His mother had been very sympathetic when he'd given her the legal tale of his stay in China. She'd been all coos and hugs, which had _not_ helped since he'd nearly broken down…and then she'd been simply astounded that he'd broken up with James. The fact that he'd really and truly left the guy had actually made her speechless…before she noted that if he found a good woman _she'd_ straighten it out.

The spy wasn't entirely sure he appreciated the woman's words themselves…but he _did_ appreciate her sentiment.

Jordan's training asserted himself enough so he left the bus several stops early and made his way into a convenience store. He wandered the isles until he'd found his drink and one for Mario, then moved up to the counter, eyeing out the front door. No one was _obviously_ following him, but that didn't mean he hadn't picked up a tail…

They had clove cigarettes.

Xane's heart thudded slightly in his chest as he saw the things, and the longing and craving for the habit butted it's way back into his psyche. He'd stopped when Jor had made it clear that he _seriously_ disapproved of the vice…coupled with the note that clove was more rare than normal mentholated types…and Xane didn't like the normal ones much at all…

"Sir?" the woman asked curiously, then followed his gaze and grinned at him, turning to grab a pack and toss it into his bag before ringing up the purchase and grinning more at him.

"You've ruined me," he accused her, passing her a bill. "I need a lighter, too."

She flashed him a white-toothed smile, then winked on him and handed it to him. "On the house."

"Gee, thanks," he muttered wryly, sighing as he left the building and dug the pack out, starting to tap it against his leg.

He realized as he set one of the black coffin nails to his lips that Mario was going to kill him…and he wasn't so sure he'd put up much of a fight. He inhaled slowly and deeply as he stopped walking, closing his eyes in enjoyment.

If Mario was going to kill him, he was gonna make _damn_ sure he enjoyed his last mistake.

- -

**March 21, A.C. 205. Negamono, Mozambique. 2 pm**

Judas laughed as he sat with his guys outside the building they'd been stocking all day. They were taking an extended break since the place was livable, where it hadn't been when they'd arrived on Saturday morning. Considering that it was Monday and that meant clean beds, they thought a little congratulations would be in order.

"You want another?" Morgan asked happily, turning to look at Judas with interest. "I know you want another…you want another?"

"Gimme," Judas agreed, reaching possessively for the cans the older male was pulling out.

Morgan pulled the thing away before Judas could grab it, teasing it in and out of his reach with a wicked grin.

"More!" Jude protested, almost wanting to stamp his foot. Considering that everyone around him was laughing already, he didn't need to add that to the mess.

"Less!" Morgan replied happily, but conceded and passed him the can.

"Sheesh," Judas added, carefully wiping the top of the thing with his shirt.

"You have issues," Morgan noted, popping his own can open happily.

Judas rolled his eyes, moving to sit again as he sipped at his drink.

It had been a fun weekend, and even though the next day he'd have to start his spying in earnest, he was still looking forward to the week.

It was easier with friends _there_ who he didn't have to pretend with, even if Alek was a damn good guy.

He really hoped this wouldn't take _too_ long to work out, though. He didn't like that he'd had to leave Alek virtually alone on the base. Mario was with Mouthy over the river, and Jordan was…well, probably home from Chile by now, but still.

He grinned as Morgan laughed out-right, then glanced down the road…to see a man dart quickly around the corner.

"Hey, Mor," he muttered, rising to his feet. "Why don't you cover me why I got scout that road?"

"It's a dangerous mission," Morgan suggested, rising up happily. He wasn't entirely sure the spy was serious about being covered, but he could play the game well enough. "But I'll back ya, man."

"I'd choose no other…" Judas returned as they started walking…actually, he was just shy of running because he didn't want the man to get away completely.

"What's up?" Morgan asked quietly as the people catcalled after them about five-minutes and something about a closet.

"I saw someone," Judas explained, flipping the people off behind him so they all laughed.

"Should I remind you that we're in a city?"

"You're a funny man, Robert, did you know that?"

"Just thought I'd toss it out there for good measure."

Judas gestured for him to stop as they reached the end building, then stepped onto the sidewalk…to see the man pretending to be un-ruffled as he climbed onto a bus.

"I told you I saw one!" Morgan announced, pointing beyond Judas at a market down the road a block.

"Oh, like I take you at your word," Judas retorted happily as the bus drove off. He sighed after it'd turned the corner and looked the rest of the road over.

"I did good?" Morgan asked, bouncing slightly on his toes. "I did good?"

"Yes, good boy," Judas reassured him…and rubbed his head.

Morgan smacked at him and he laughed, darting away from arm's reach.

"Ooh, look," Judas added, pointing in the other direction at a complex of buildings.

"My word," Morgan turned to study it properly. "Is that a mall?"

"Come on, boy," Judas muttered, patting his thigh as he started back toward the building.

"You treat me like a dog and I'll show you how un-trainable I am," Morgan warned.

"You can't _honestly_ be any _worse_ than Mouthy, Robert. There's no way in hell you could be _worse_ than Mouthy."

"Beware," Morgan retorted as he fell into step with the other. "I'm fairly certain I could give that boy a run for his money."

Judas stopped, turning to meet his eyes as he tried not to grin.

"What?" Morgan demanded almost skeptically.

"I thought you were straight," he returned…then laughed wickedly and darted away from the guy.

He was going to have a rather fun gig this time…too bad he didn't have someone to fuck with on _all_ his missions.

- -

**March 21, A.C. 205. Base. 8 am**

"Why are you knocking on my door at eight in the morning?" Trowa asked Raul blankly.

"I missed ya, baby," Raul retorted, sliding into the living room. He grinned at his friend before moving to the window to crack the curtains very slightly since Trowa and Wufei had opted to put their couch in front of the window. "Shh, don't wake Wufei."

"What?" Wufei asked blankly, moving in from the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

"Seriously," Trowa agreed. "Any normal day and we'd be at work…why are you knocking on my door at eight in the morning?"

"I was set to take care of the ladies," Raul reminded them, giving them curious looks. "Shin chased me off last night and Quatre was giving me menacing looks when I tried to go in there this morning…I guess Chai's not awake."

"That's weird," Wufei muttered, looking to his watch. He shook his head, then sat in the recliner to finish tying off his boot.

"You look all…impressive…" Raul muttered, studying him uncertainly. He wasn't quite sure _what_ it was about the guy that was different.

Wufei raised his head to give him a _look_.

"It's his hair," Trowa pointed out, moving back into his room. It was hard _not_ to notice the spy-boy watching the Chinese-man intensely. "He hasn't pulled it back yet."

"Holy shit, it's _long_," Raul muttered, reaching forward to grab the still wet ends that were hanging over Wufei's shoulder.

Wufei _smacked_ his hand.

"Ow…sorry," Raul rubbed at his hand as he studied the Chinese man with interest.

"My soft flowing locks frame my face, I get ya," Wufei muttered, rolling his eyes as he straightened again, then raised his head very slightly to look down at the soldier.

Raul grinned and looked away, shaking his head as he noted the second oddity. "You don't have your jacket on."

"What?" Wufei demanded, stopping to meet his eyes. "Are you _actually_ checking me out?"

Raul started laughing, shaking his head more at the man. "I couldn't figure out what was different, leave me alone."

"You should see him shirt-less," Trowa noted, moving from his room with a shit-eatin' grin with his boots in one hand.

"I disown you," Wufei informed Trowa, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Trowa sniggered happily, sitting in the chair Wufei had vacated to put his boots on. "Yeah," he noted to the soldier. "We're running late."

"Everyone's gonna start talking," Raul noted without quite moving his mouth. "You know you two'll be the talk of the cafeteria."

Trowa flashed him a wicked grin. "No visible marks."

"_What?!_" Wufei demanded, moving back to the kitchen door…as Trowa laughed happily. When no repeat was offered, he rolled his eyes skyward again and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Trowa laughed more, rising and stomping his feet some to settle the boots…then sat to re-tighten the strings.

"I didn't realize that Chance really _does_ call us every morning," Wufei noted, moving back into the room again with three coffee mugs. "And that ringing, even if we don't answer it, wakes us up on time. Doesn't it figure that the first time I'm unintentionally late in three years is when our mother-hen is off gallivanting in Chile?"

"Thanks," Raul returned, taking a cup.

"I woke up, but I don't really care," Trowa noted, taking his own cup. "Thanks…but we don't have to share a shower here, so I couldn't sleep in that extra fifteen."

Wufei flashed him a grin before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"You can't go to work," Raul protested, realizing what they were both about. "If you go to work, it's weird for me to be in here."

"Quatre should be leaving any second now," Trowa retorted. "Then you can go over and bug Chai. She'll probably be horrified that Quatre got up and off to work without waking her up."

Raul grinned at him.

"What are you doing today?" Wufei asked, moving back into the room with three bowls. He passed one to their guest, then set the other on the end of the coffee table before stepping back and stirring his own.

"Wow…thanks," Raul muttered, studying the oatmeal with interest.

"I get cravings, hush," Wufei returned, then kicked Trowa's boot.

"We're overhauling those damn machines," Trowa returned. "We found the part that died on the two that were flying…and there were five more from that same lot, but we're taking a few from each _other_ lot and looking for damages."

"So you're not going to need your car?" Wufei pressed, then pointed at the bowl. "Eat."

Trowa grabbed the bowl as he thought, then shrugged. "I shouldn't…and I have Doug around so it'll make more sense for you to have your car."

Wufei nodded, focusing on his food before raising his eyes to Raul.

Raul looked away, shaking his head.

"Meet us for lunch?" Wufei offered. "I was thinking about running into town in a while and stocking up on microwave friendly stuff…I could pick us all something up for lunch."

"Sure," Raul returned, grinning slightly at him.

"Good," Wufei muttered. "You can get him from the field."

Trowa snorted, though he was more focused on eating.

"There goes Cat," Wufei added, his eyes rising to the window as a car was heard to start. "I can't believe we _all_ over-slept."

Raul flashed him a grin.

"I'm done," Wufei noted, taking Raul's bowl…as the guy took a quick two more bites.

Trowa started laughing…but his bowl was swept away just as fast. "I was _eating_ that!"

"Not fast enough," Wufei retorted…and disappeared into his room.

Trowa grinned, looking back to Raul. "We can meet at the canteen for a bagel in an hour or something. I'm sure then I'll be irritated enough to need a break."

"I'll dig up Max and the two of us can come help you," he suggested. "That way you have some light entertainment."

Trowa grinned at that, then moved around into his own bedroom as Wufei moved back into the hall, buttoning his uniform jacket. He looked back to Raul, then raised an eyebrow as he disappeared more into the kitchen again.

He hadn't put his hair up.

Raul grinned to himself as he stood, deciding he _didn't_ need to remind the guy about it…he pulled the door open, flinching at the beeping sound that Jordan and Chance had both disabled.

"We're going to have to kill that," Trowa noted almost curiously as he moved from his room with his own uniform jacket on. "What are you doing, Fei?"

"Getting our coffee, shit," Wufei retorted as he moved back into the room…even though the three coffee cups were still sitting on the table. He passed a travel mug to Trowa, then kicked pointedly at Raul's boots.

"I'm going, I'm going," Raul muttered, darting out the door. "Sheesh…see you at lunch."

Wufei flashed him a bright grin, then turned and headed for his car.

"Later," Trowa muttered to him with a grin as he followed the other.

Raul started across the street, hoping he could talk Chai into making him oatmeal. He hadn't had the stuff in a year or more, and that part of the bowl he'd eaten hadn't been _nearly_ enough.


	54. 54

— 54 —

**March 21, A.C. 205. Base. 11:30 am**

"Hey, baby," Chai muttered, answering her cell phone quickly.

"Hey, baby," Jor returned, sounding somewhat tired. "I wanted to call and tell you we're staying a few more days."

"Why?" Chai asked blankly, looking up to Shin. They were sitting in the woman's living room while Raul played a fairly involved game of monster-trucks with Chip.

"Because," Jordan returned, "his mother says he calls her every other week and he's in China. It's that other week, and I wanna see if he's lying to his mommy or not."

"How are you going to pull _that_ off?" Chai demanded, considering that. "I mean…he _doesn't_ know you…"

"It's a tap on her line," Jordan returned dryly. "We did yard work for her this weekend and I set it up…I told her we were leaving today, so we're gonna lay low and wait until tomorrow night and take the red-eye home."

Chai sighed heavily.

"What news?" he asked.

"Judas is set and rolling," she returned. "Nothing more there. Xane was rolling before he was fully set, but he has an address now of questionable intent…nothing more with that."

"And Raul?"

"He's sitting here playing with Chip," Chai returned dryly, giving the man a look. She knew he was trained well enough that he _was_ listening.

Raul flashed her a grin.

"How are you?" Jordan asked, accepting that.

"I'm fine," Chai returned. "Quatre's in the house at night so I don't have any issues…Shin's either going to sleep over at my place from now on or get Raul to crash here."

"Raul hasn't been?" Jordan sounded annoyed by that.

"Tell him," Raul ordered her, stopping his play to give her a look.

Chai gave him a _very_ level look. "No, he hasn't been."

Jordan went silent in the way that suggested anger.

That wasn't fair.

Chai sighed. "He tried, but she chases him off around nine."

"Give me that," Chance was muttering to Jor. There was a moment of strange sounds before she could hear Jor cursing in the background. "Chai?"

"Yeah?" she returned.

"Can I talk to my wife?"

Chai grinned slightly, passing the phone to Shin.

"Hello?" she asked him, then fell silent. After a moment she started muttering to him quickly in Chinese.

"Okay, that's not fair," Raul muttered, looking to Shin. "I haven't had the chance to sit down and learn that language yet."

Chai flashed him a grin.

Shin's tone turned annoyed and Chip looked up to her in confusion.

"What did she say?" Raul asked the boy curiously.

"She said you're not her husband," he returned, giving the male a confused look. "Who is she talking to?"

"Your dad," Raul returned. "Your dad and Uncle Jordan want me to sleep here at night to make sure you two feel comfortable."

"But Mom makes you leave," the boy protested, blinking at him.

"Which is why she's annoyed with your dad."

The boy snorted, then rammed his car into the one Raul was holding with a crashing noise.

Raul grinned and went back to the game himself.

"Fine, whatever," Shin snapped irritably, then passed the phone to Chai as she focused her glare at Raul.

"I didn't do it," Raul informed her, barely looking up from his play.

"You get the couch."

"Or the floor," he pointed at the window. "Depending on if Chai lets me steal a mattress or not."

Shin glared at him a moment longer before grinning and looking away.

"Reasonably pissed, yes," Chai agreed to her husband sweetly. "Riley wanted me to tell you she's bored."

Jordan snorted.

- -

**March 21, A.C. 205. Base. 12 pm**

"Hey," Raul greeted Trowa as the guy climbed into his car. "How are you?"

"Starving," Trowa returned easily. "What happened to you finding Max?"

"The ladies decided they wanted my attention," he returned with a shrug. "Sorry about that."

"Oh well," Trowa returned, making a face. "You're not my guy."

"Hey, I tried," Raul retorted happily, pulling away from the curb. "You're the one who didn't want _me_."

Trowa laughed at that, resting his head backwards as he studied the roof of the car. After a moment, he turned and looked around the back seat.

"What?" Raul asked skeptically.

"This is a piece of shit," Trowa returned happily.

"Oh haha," Raul retorted as they turned down the street to the houses. "At least it runs."

"Mine runs…and is not a piece of shit," Trowa noted, pointing out his own car as Raul parked on the street.

"Yours is also expensive," Raul retorted, climbing out and looking up as Wufei's car appeared a few houses down. "I can't afford your car."

"You can if you buy it from me," Trowa noted happily, moving up to unlock the front door.

"And what're the chances of that?" Raul retorted.

"Slim to none," Trowa grinned, throwing the door open and shaking his head at the interior…and the damn beeping sensor.

"Hey," Wufei greeted them as he slid tiredly from his vehicle, popping the trunk.

"What's up?" Raul asked, blinking at him. He was obviously down, and his expression wasn't happy. The spy had to grin slightly to himself since the man's hair was still loose around his shoulders.

"Stop looking at me," Wufei snapped at him almost threateningly as he grabbed out a bag…he was also glaring.

Raul stepped back, not sure how to react to that.

"I'm so _fucking_ tired of being watched," Wufei snapped, shoving the bag hard into Raul's chest. "If you keep staring at me, I swear I'll _kick_ your ass."

"Calm down, cowboy," Trowa suggested, moving up behind his friend.

"Touch me and I'll kick you," Wufei grumped at him, turning to glare at him as Trowa stopped short with his hands behind his back. Wufei gave him a very level look, running a hand through his hair irritably as he went back to grumping and telling them about how _everyone_ had been watching him _all_ day.

Raul wondered if he actively realized he hadn't put his hair up during the day.

"Don't just _stand_ there," Wufei snapped at Trowa, who hadn't moved.

"Close your eyes," Trowa suggested, grinning slightly.

"What?" Wufei demanded, though his hands were full of bags.

"Close your eyes," Trowa repeated, tilting his head. "You know how this will end," he reminded the guy. "I'll keep saying the same thing without moving until you concede, and you'll work yourself up to a tizzy and then be super irritated when I've done it."

Wufei drew himself up, then glared at the guy and squeezed his eyes closed tight.

Trowa grinned…and gathered Wufei's hair up in his hands.

Wufei's response was immediate, but so was Trowa's. Raul stared as Trowa laughed absolutely delightedly as he avoided the other. Wufei was trying to hurt him, but Trowa wasn't encumbered with shopping bags and hadn't actually had a bad day.

Wufei, of course, had reverted to cursing in Chinese, or something similar, still watching for his chance to hurt the guy but not so rabidly attempting it.

"Calm down!" Trowa laughed, moving away from the guy again to show what he was holding. "Calm down!"

Wufei finally realized that and stopped to stare at the hair-tie in disbelief.

"Geeze, give me a break already, freak…"

Wufei huffed up at him, then turned to give Raul a demanding sort of look.

"Uh…you okay?" Raul asked him.

Wufei looked from him to Trowa's grinning face, then turned and stormed into the house.

Trowa laughed more, wrapping the hair-tie around his wrist before going around Raul to grab a couple of bags from the trunk. "Come on…and don't give him a hard time."

"Did he not get it?" Raul asked curiously, following the other into the house…as Wufei slammed the door to his bedroom.

"I have no idea if he realized he forgot to pull his hair back or not. I didn't think he was going to freak out on me, though."

Raul grinned at him, then turned to get more bags from the car.

"Come on, Fei," Trowa called, grinning slightly as he started putting the groceries away. "I'll put us a nice lunch on and you can tell us all about how you got annoyed by hot chicks checking you out."

"It wasn't only _chicks!_" Wufei snapped, storming from his room. He had his hair pony-tailed. "_Everyone_ was watching me, and it started with _him!_" he pointed accusingly at Raul as Raul moved back in.

"What did I do?" Raul protested, setting the bags on the counter.

Wufei gave him dirty look, glaring at him intently.

"What?" Raul protested, backing away and looking to Trowa.

Trowa made the gesture to move, grinning even more since Wufei wasn't watching him.

Raul gave Wufei another bothered sort of look, then turned and headed back for the trunk.

For some reason, Wufei's agitation was _highly_ amusing to him…he wasn't letting the Chinese man know that, though…and there were still a few more bags in the trunk.

- -

**March 22, A.C. 205. Arica, Chile. 11 pm**

Jordan hopped into Mrs. Turrell's backyard with the silence and ease born of misspent training. He moved silently up to the building and clicked open the telephone-box where he had his little mechanism hooked up. It took him about three seconds for him to close the box back up and dart back across the backyard.

Chance looked up from the laptop as Jordan joined him, and plugged the end into the machine as it was offered to him. They both waited impatiently as the information downloaded, then Chance nodded slightly at Jordan.

"I'll be back," Jor muttered quietly as Chance carefully saved the file. They had a half an hour before they had to get on their flight, they were already checked in, everything aside from their carry-ons were ready to go.

Chance packed his laptop away again, setting aside the bag and starting the engine as Jordan melted into the front seat…and they left.

"I don't want to leave without knowing," Jordan noted, reaching back and grabbing the bag. "You mind?"

"It has a fingerprint scanner," Chance noted almost curiously, wondering how his friend would get around the safety.

"Hm, since we aren't all hackers," Jordan dismissed the comment as he opened it, then stopped as they hit a stop-sign. "You seriously won't just run your finger for me?"

"When was the last time you did it?" Chance retorted, giving him a look. "You have to stay in practice."

"I hacked your porn collection last week," Jor returned to his dismissive behavior as he hit the power button.

"Wrong laptop," Chance noted with a smirk. "That's Shin's."

"What?" Jordan asked blankly, meeting his eyes in confusion.

Chance laughed as they started picking up speed.

"My god, you're serious," Jordan studied his friend's face in disbelief before shaking his head and moving his arm as Chance reached over and ran his print. "I should get Chai one, huh?"

"Maybe take your own when you go somewhere, too," Chance agreed in amusement.

"Why don't I have it, again?" his tone was curious as he met eyes with the Japanese man.

"Uh…" Chance cast his mind out quickly. "Your wife was looking up porn when you left."

Jordan snickered slightly as he clicked the file open.

"Or maybe Cat was," Chance added thoughtfully. "You share well with him."

"Yeah, yeah," Jordan muttered, not bothering to rise to the offense as he scanned down the number listings. He hadn't had to be sneaky about the matter. He could have gone outright to the telephone company and gotten them to give him her listing, but then he wouldn't have had the confirmation that the woman was in _fact_ the good colonel's mother.

He knew he could have uncomplicated the situation by giving about four orders, but he _was_ out and about and didn't feel any particular need to waste funding on things that didn't stress him in the slightest.

"Oi, genius," Chance muttered pointedly.

Jor looked up, startled to realize the motor was off.

"Let's go," Chance muttered, taking his laptop from his friend and clicking through the menus to turn it off.

"Hey!" Jordan protested, then sighed and slid from the machine.

"I still think we should steal a shuttle," Chance noted as he tucked the laptop into his bag.

"So you said, but I still can't quite take you seriously."

"If I do it, will you follow?"

Jordan considered that as they started for the airport building again. "I would if we hadn't already checked into our flight."

"Me'n you flying would be easier than that shit."

"If you _really_ want to fly," Jordan said very levelly to him, "either get an appointment with Trowa or buy your own damn plane."

"I want a gundam," Chance said pointedly.

Jordan gave him a level look, then rolled his eyes…and headed for the building.

- -

**March 23, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 9 am**

Xane inhaled slowly as he stared out at the steadily moving streets around them. He didn't like the mood that had fallen over him since is week had started. He'd been right about Mario freaking out on him for smoking, and he'd used that as the corner stone to keep himself from having a second, and Tuesday had passed busily so the damn strong-smelling things hadn't distracted him.

Unfortunately, Mario was a _heavy_ sleeper, and not nearly close enough in the emotional sense for the taboo to carry.

"You are _not!_"

Xane jumped, turning to look at the man as he stormed from inside the building to smack him upside the head.

"Hey, Mario, leave him alone," someone inside protested.

"Don't _fucking_ hit me," Xane snapped at the guy, glaring up at him.

"You're _stupid_ for smoking!" Mario retorted irritably. "You're…it's _so_ bad for your lungs!"

"Since I don't _know_ that," Xane grumbled, inhaling again as he glared at the guy.

"That's it, I'm telling Yuy," Mario noted, pulling his phone out.

Xane felt his irritation increase…and exhaled in the man's face. When Mario started coughing and choking, he took the phone from the man's hand and flipped it the rest of the way open…and paged through the menu to find Yuy himself.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mario protested, trying to get at it…but Xane kept the cigarette between them as he called the other lieutenant general.

"Mario?" Yuy sounded confused.

"It will be in a second," Xane noted. "For some reason your second felt like tattling that I'm smoking…so I decided to make it easier for him."

"You're smoking again?" Chance demanded levelly. "And pissing my second off? Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no," Xane returned easily, noting that Mario had settled down with crossed arms. "There are just some moments when I don't _give_ a shit."

"Let me talk to him…and stop smoking."

"Sure things, Sir," Xane noted, inhaling again as he passed the phone over.

"How am I supposed to _deal_ with him?" Mario demanded.

Xane rolled his eyes and walked a ways away so the wind wasn't blowing the smoke at the guy anymore. Mario's tone had lowered to a private conversation, and Xane sighed as he squished the thing out. The problem with clove cigarettes was that if you weren't used to smoking them, they upset your stomach. There'd been a time when he could have his one a day with no issues, but that time had passed, and a half a one at a time was more than enough.

Of course, he couldn't remember if he'd turned on his scrambler.

He moved back into the building to the little machine, noting that it was fully hooked up before turning and heading to wash his hands. The other guys of the group, who were awake, were watching him almost warily.

"Fine, fine," Mario muttered with a sigh, then stopped to look at Xane as he closed his phone.

"I'm sorry," Xane muttered with a sigh, drying his hands off. "I'm really not in a good mood."

Mario flashed him the best and most _impressive_ 'asshole' smile he'd ever seen. "Shoulda thought about that _before_ my superior told me to call Maxwell."

"What?" Xane protested, drawing himself up. He'd _really_ been feeling contrite.

Mario plugged the numbers into his phone.

"Oh, come _on_…" Xane started to protest moving forward…but Mario raised his hand, palm-out, and turned away.

"Talk to me," Xane heard Jordan mutter tiredly.

"Maxwell?" Mario asked curiously. "This is Allul."

"Featihl has the scrambler on?" Jordan demanded sharply.

Mario looked taken aback.

"I do," Xane said loud enough to be heard.

"Okay…what's up?"

"Your second seems to have picked up smoking again," Mario explained, starting to pace away.

Xane stared after him in irritated disbelief.

He hadn't thought the issue would go beyond Chance, who would have kept Xane's peace to save him Jordan's ranting with the promise of him not buying another pack…_calling_ Jor was just _mean_.

Xane turned irritably, and resolved to find out who _lived_ in the house he'd seen on Monday.

He needed _some_ sort of information to keep Jordan from frothing at the mouth.

- -

**March 23, A.C. 205. Negamono, Mozambique. 10 am**

"It has to be hard," Judas agreed with the man he'd been speaking with. "I like the concept of an 'easy button'," he made air quotes.

The guy gave him an interested look. "Easy button? It _sounds_ appealing."

Judas grinned. "Way back before the colonies, when television was still young, they had this store that ran these ads," he pointed up at a large ad on the side of a building they could see from the window. "Go to their store and get what you need easy, that sort of thing…and they had this run of this 'easy button'. I had to look into it at my high school for this stupid marketing class I took."

The man shook his head with a grin. "That's…interesting."

"Some of the commercials were funny, but with some of the running schedules listed, they had to get annoying after like…the first two times."

The man grinned more at that.

"So…I can't give you one of those buttons," he added, fiddling with his pen as he thought. "And I can't give you the world…but what I might be able to set your family up with the clinic for basic health-care…I'm pretty sure you meet the requirements. That aside, we have some food boxes. Bring your kids and your wife by tomorrow and we can get them some new shoes."

That got a bright smile as something like relief lighted the man's face.

"We'll get you some shoes now," Judas added happily, writing down in his notes what he'd promised. "And you'll probably want to come in early tomorrow. We get busier as the day goes on, all right?"

"That's…great," the man muttered, obviously relieved and grateful. "I…that's more than I'd hoped for…I mean…"

Judas smiled at that and pushed away from the desk. "Come with me, then." They moved into the hall as some of the tired looking people looked up to them with the sort of unhappy look the people in Lower Angels often had. "Stace?"

"Yeah, Raj?" she returned, turning her head to look at him.

"Can you get me a family healthcare packet?"

"All right," she agreed, smiling brightly at the man following him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting him some shoes," Judas returned happily, heading into the back. "Shouldn't take too long."

"Only shoes?" she seemed startled.

"For now," Judas returned, grinning at her. "He's bringing his family in tomorrow morning."

"Ah," she nodded her approval.

Judas turned and headed for the rooms again, pulling the door open to the shoes and socks room. "So, I'm gonna have to size your feet, because I can't figure out the local sizing chart."

The man grinned at that slightly, looking around.

"Have a seat," Judas added, indicating one of the two benches in the place as he grabbed up the foot-thing. "A shoe off, please."

The man slid a boot off…and didn't seem to have any socks.

So…okay…. Judas leaned over and plucked out a package of socks, tossing them to the man before setting the thing against the guy's foot.

"Thanks…" the man was startled.

"I hate wearing boots without socks myself," he noted, shaking his own boot at the guy…and realizing they were his damn combat boots. Why was he wearing his _combat_ boots? He _had_ normal damn shoes in the building…

"Socks aren't necessary when the kids need supper," the guy noted, shrugging slightly. "You learn to live with it."

"Mm, I can respect that," Judas reassured him, then rose to his feet to pull a few different styles of shoes from the shelves. "As much as I'd love to give you the lot, you can only pick one."

- -

E/N: hehe, yeah, Cara, it's nearing the end, lol. I do have a story in the thoughts, anyway. No idea when I'm gonna get to writing it. Anyway, hope you're all enjoying the story!


	55. 55

— 55 —

**March 23, A.C. 205. Base. 1 am**

"Ha," Jordan muttered quietly, sitting up straighter. He'd been right in assuming that Turrell wasn't in China.

Chance had forced him not to dig out the laptop for their flight home. Pretty much as soon as they'd stepped off the plane, Mouthy had called from Mario's phone…which had led to Chance talking to the guy as they left the airport. Mario had then called Jordan himself and they'd talked as they started back for the base…which had then been followed by Jor calling his second. That conversation had taken them back to the base. The result was he hadn't gotten to look at his information until something like twelve or twelve-thirty.

"I knew it," he added, poking his friend with his foot. "It's a phone based from China, but that's not its location."

Chance opened is eyes to give him a dark look, then rolled his eyes and sat forward. He looked around the house a moment, then at the clock in the corner of the laptop. "You letting me take that?"

"Not right now, no," Jor returned easily. "I won't lose it, I promise."

Chance snorted at him as he rubbed his eyes, then shoved out of his seat. "You knew he wasn't in China, dumb-ass."

"Yes, but what I know and what's _true_ aren't necessarily the same thing."

"I'll hold you to that," Chance informed him, kicking his leg…and nearly falling as Jordan grabbed it. He started laughing and shook free as his friend grinned evilly at him. "I'm going home and going to bed. My wife smells better than you."

"And is, you know, your wife," Jordan agreed.

Chance flashed him a grin, grabbing up his jacket and moving tiredly to the door. "Don't stay up all night."

"Shoulda told me that an hour ago," Jor suggested, glancing at the clock himself.

"Night," Chance muttered, deciding that wasn't worth arguing about. He yawned to himself as he moved into the cool night air, gathering his jacket against his chest. If he didn't live as close as he did, he would have bothered putting the thing on…but it would be pointless as the situation stood.

His house was quiet as he moved into it, locking the door and looking around a moment so his eyes adjusted.

"You want me to go?" Raul's voice was tired.

"No, just crash," the man returned, moving to push his son's door open. From the light of the nightlight, he saw the boy was well asleep and smiled slightly to himself as he moved forward to kiss the kid's temple. "Love you," he whispered, then turned and moved back from the room.

Raul had settled down again, probably back into sleep, so Chance dropped his jacket on a chair before pushing into his bedroom.

"Hm?" Shin asked tiredly.

"Shh," Chance returned, moving to kiss her. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."

She smiled at him, then poked him. "I was about to freak out on you…"

"What? Why?" he gave her a confused look as he started to pull his shirt off.

"I thought you were Raul," she retorted.

"What would Raul be doing in here?" he asked blankly.

"Exactly," she retorted.

…and Chance remembered that she was an Angels girl. The thing about the slum area was how certain arrangements played out, including sex in exchange for services. She might know that in reality, there was no way in hell the man would ask her for that exchange, but it had been something deeply ingrained in her most of her life.

He sighed slightly to himself. "You can trust him, you know that, don't you?"

"I know," she muttered quietly. "But it's weird."

"Not when me and Jor set him up to do it…you haven't been bitchy to him, have you?"

"Chai said the same thing," Shin noted. "I tried not to be."

"Good," Chance muttered, kissing her again and moving back for the bathroom.

"Why were you gone? That was you I heard pulling in, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Chance agreed, flicking the light on. "Jor has my laptop."

"Why?" Shin asked blankly, rolling over to press her eyes into her pillow.

"Because the genius forgets we have a wireless network, forgot to take his machine with him, and is so focused on finishing his task that he's overlooking fine details."

She snorted.

"I'll be out in a minute," Chance added, and closed the bathroom door.

- -

**March 23, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 3 pm**

The former colonel, Stanly Turrell, was pensive as he stared out at the street in front of his house. His mother had praised his friends highly, saying they were such gentlemen, they'd spoken beautiful Spanish, and had made the yard look beautiful.

Problem was, he didn't remember anyone named Burion or Donn…and the guy he had looking up the records was coming up with nothing. The description his mother had given him had been severely generic as well. Two men, the one was Caucasian and the other was Asian, probably Japanese. They both had popular male haircuts and the bearing of a soldier…which probably described half of the military. Well, the haircuts suggested officer's ranking, since un-ranked soldiers all had the same haircut…

It could easily have been government officials, but Stan didn't figure they'd have come in pretending…and he didn't need that on top of trying to rebuff Xu's claims. Chaoxiang Xu…the dumb ass. Instead of trying to press his own innocence he'd fucked it all to be sure his lover got off scott-free to go back to the Americas. His lawyer was fighting something of a rear-guard action, and it looked like the blond kingpin was getting five years…only five.

Actually, that was strange as far as Stan was concerned. The reports he'd gotten from his various men all noted that out of all the weapons found on the premise of Xu's apartment, none of them matched the majority of the murders thought to have been performed by the man. Stan also knew that Xu kept his records in a note-book…stupid, in his eyes…but that notebook had vanished as well. He'd sent a guy in to get it, because his own name had been listed in the thing, and they'd come back empty-handed.

A man moved by in front of the house, looking around the parking-area in front of the garage. He looked the house over briefly, then moved on up the road, still admiring the yard, and Stan turned back to sit in his desk.

He was disturbed that someone wanting to find _him_ had gone to _her_, ex-comrade or no. His mother was a good woman, and he'd worked things out to be sure that if he _ever_ went down, she wasn't touched for it. She would never, in any way, approve of what he was doing, so he made sure she never had to disapprove.

And why, with the most sophisticated network of people at his command, couldn't anyone find out who Tyler Donn or Dane Burion were? If they were really military, they'd have records…and if they weren't military what were they doing around his mother?

Stan frowned darkly and grabbed his cell phone.

He was sending some people to his mother. They wouldn't interfere with her in any way, but they'd make _damn_ sure she was out of danger.

He had a feeling things weren't going to end well.

- -

Xane cursed to himself as he moved into the convenience store at the end of his bus-ride. He'd seen someone from the house standing in the window, so he'd had to abort his little side-trip to the place…which meant he got to play in the dark. There didn't seem to be any dogs on the premise, but he was going to go watch the house before he even tried to breach the fence-line.

"Long lunch?" a woman from the team teased as he moved back into their building.

Xane smiled at her as Mario watched him. "I lost track of time, sorry, guys."

"It's all right…there's a gentlemen waiting to see you," she pointed toward the back.

Xane moved toward his office with interest to see one of the guys who'd been watching them sit up suspiciously. He smiled at the man, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Ranger Dwight…how can I help you?"


	56. 56

— 56 —

**March 23, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 8 pm**

"Hey, baby," Jordan muttered.

"You're in a good mood," Xane returned warily. He and Mario had gotten supper and were getting ready to head down to a bar they'd seen a block over.

"Mm, and you're just the man I wanted to talk to," Jor noted happily.

"Okay, man, you're scaring me," Xane noted, leaning against the wall beside the door to the room he and Mario were sharing. Mario was out in the main living area. "Last time we talked I swore my innards were bleeding."

"Oh, but you're just where I want you to be, and, my sweet dear boy, you also know exactly where all the problems started from."

"Do I?" Xane asked, thinking to the house he'd walked past.

"Oh my, yes," Jordan agreed. "After I bitched you out last night I spent a couple hours playing hacker and tracer…crashed. When I woke up this morning everything just suddenly started making sense."

"Okay?" Xane asked blankly.

Jordan laughed darkly. "See, darling, there's this mean nasty colonel man who stole a whole bunch of these really big metal weapons from the earthsphere government…never a good move…and while it took a while to be noticed, after he'd been gone a few years, it became a high priority case."

"That sent various soldiers to Spain, Germany, China, and Russia?" Xane asked, pretending curios. He knew his superior would get to the real point before the sun rose again, so making the man happy might quicken the process.

"Mm-hmm," Jordan agreed in a dark and almost seductive tone. "And that brings us back to you."

"Okay?" Xane asked, pressing his body away from the wall.

"I'm coming to you."

Xane grinned slightly.

"You're probably going to hate me for it, but you all need to stay at that building until we get there."

"Uh…Jor?" Xane asked curiously. "I don't see us being in any danger."

"The last time shit started to _really_ go down, you were grabbed and beaten," all play was gone from the man's voice. "I'm _not_ dealing with that again. You're ass is to _stay_, Xane Featihl. We aren't connecting you to any damn thing with our movements…you gave me the address and it matches nicely with what I found. That's an order. Confirm."

Xane was focused on the far wall in disbelief.

"_Confirm!_" Jordan insisted.

"No!" Xane shot back, shoving away from the wall in irritation as the people in the main living area turned to give him confused looks. "No! Not now! Not after _everything_…"

"No," Jordan cut him off, his tone going dark again. "You don't have a choice. I'm not losing you over this stupid shit."

"I'm _not_ pussying out now, after _everything_ we've done!"

"What's up?" Mario demanded, moving closer.

"Call him," Jordan snapped away from the phone. "You listen to me, Mouthy," he added. "We aren't going to have this conversation."

Mario's cell phone started ringing, and he blinked at it before looking back to Xane and opening it.

"We aren't going to argue about this. I'm giving Judas the same damn order…"

"You can't!" Xane shouted back, pacing away from the opening. "You can't just ditch on us like this! We just spent…a _year_ looking for this guy, and you just want us to stand back and watch? You want to bench us with five minutes on the clock? You _can't!_"

"We don't _know_ that he's still in charge of the damn weaponry," Jordan half-snarled at him. "We don't know if it's five minutes or half-time…_you_ are to stay in that damn building."

Mario's eyes were large as he moved to stand in the door to the room and look at the spy.

"You're not doing this to me," Xane protested. "You're not seriously…you can't…."

"I'll tell you this once, Xane," Jordan said darkly. "What we're here to get is _information_, and that doesn't include blazing-fucking-glory…that's Chance's department. Me'n you are just pawns and spies, we're just on the board to mark the path. We _did_ what we meant to do and we're _done_. I'm not losing you because you want an adrenaline rush…that's not in the script and I'm not adding it in the margin. You can be as pissed at me as you want, but Yuy gave the order that you are not to leave that building unless it's the back-yard until further notice."

Xane turned to focus on Mario again, who was staring at him with an upset sort of resignation.

"In a half hour, my resources will come to you, and you are _not_ to interrupt them at all…confirm."

"No," Xane snapped back, pacing away from Mario backwards. "You can't…"

"Xane," Jordan said levelly, "Mario's been trained by Wufei for something like seven years. If you honestly think it's beyond him to handcuff you…"

"Jordan…" Xane started.

"We're done," Jordan cut him off. "Confirm my damn order."

Mario moved into the room with his arms crossed uncomfortably.

Xane frowned and turned his back to the guy. "Jordan…"

"**Featihl,**" Jordan's voice was made of steel.

Xane gritted his teeth as he looked to the ceiling, then started to shake his head. "Confirmed."

…Jordan hung up on him.

- -

**March 23, A.C. 205. Negamono, Mozambique. 8:10 pm**

"Yo," Judas muttered.

"Hey, chameleon," Jordan greeted him.

"Jor?" Judas asked blankly. "What's up?"

"We've found our man," Jordan explained…though he did sound aggravated.

Judas' heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"I've found him…in Zenica. Your orders are to stay inside the mission building until I come for you."

"Uh…" Judas muttered. "How is that fair?"

"Fair and safe can be two different things sometimes," Jordan returned. "Do I have to bicker with you? I just had to bicker with Xane. You don't want me pissed at you do you?"

Judas hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say to that.

"That's what I thought," Jordan noted. "I'm going to Tanzania. After the issue is resolved I'll pick up Mouthy and Allul, and then I'll come across the river and grab you and Mor. You are not to _leave_ that building."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and suggest that you can't do this to us," Judas noted.

"Oh, but I can," Jordan agreed.

Morgan moved to the door to his and Judas' room with a frown and his cell to his ear.

"See, I seem to have back-up. Mor is Wufei's second…his _second_."

Judas eyed the man warily, actually realizing the truth in that…even if Morgan didn't look happy about it, he didn't look about to argue.

"So, you stay put, do what help you must…and I'll come collect you as soon as I can."

"I spent _six_ months living alone with those damn wolves," Judas argued instantly. "You're going to make me sit here while you go out and get our guy? After living as something I'm not for six months I don't even get the gratification of _watching_ you take him?"

"You're getting a rank upgrade," Jordan snapped.

"Rank?" Judas demanded in sickened disbelief. "Jordan…"

"Stay in the building," Jordan growled at him. "That's my order. Confirm."

"Jor…" Judas started.

"_**Confirm!**_"

"Yes, sir," Judas capitulated instantly, startled at the man's tone.

He'd never known Jordan to actually…yell…like that.

Morgan looked slightly impressed.

"I'm heading for the god damn airport right now and my resources will show up at your building within the hour. You are _not_ to leave, you already agreed you wouldn't. You are _not_ to let anyone in your group leave, either. I don't care if you tell them what's really going on, as long as they stay _inside_ that damn building."

"Yes, sir," Judas agreed darkly, looking away from Morgan again.

"You played a good game," Jordan reassured him. "You did more than I should have expected of you. Don't be mad."

"I'm not _mad_," Judas snapped irritably, pulling the phone away from his ear. "I'm disappointed." He snapped the thing shut.

"Hm?" Morgan asked. "Yeah, he did." The guy listened a second, then grinned. "Later, then…see you tomorrow." He also closed his phone, then tucked his hands into his pockets to study Judas with interest.

Judas considered him a moment, but had a feeling Xane didn't intend to follow the order anymore than he himself did. He didn't care if it pissed Jordan off to high hell. After all the work they'd done to get where they were, he wasn't about to miss the glory-moment. His aim had been to take down a bad guy, and he wasn't ending it without doing just that.

He opened his phone and dialed up Xane's phone–he didn't keep any of his comrade's numbers on it in case he got caught.

"I am _so_ pissed!" Xane half-shouted instantly. "Can you believe this shit?"

"I know," Judas agreed, glad that the irritation was really shared. "I can't believe how unfair this is…it's like…"

"I know!" Xane agreed. "And I haven't even gotten to look into that damn house."

"You aren't leaving, and you need to hang up," Morgan noted, moving at Judas quickly.

"What?" Judas asked blankly.

"You need to hang up now," Morgan replied, starting to reach for the phone.

Judas shied back, his mind switching gears instantly. "Morgan's trying to take my phone," he noted in German.

"Shit," Xane muttered. "What are we going to do?"

"If we can grab him before he knows they're onto him, he won't be able to call out his dogs, right?" Judas returned, still in the language Morgan didn't know.

"Can you get away?" Xane asked. "We can meet at the bridge."

"I'll try," Judas muttered.

"Stop," Morgan muttered, moving into Judas' personal space. "Just give me the phone."

"I've got to deal with Mario," Xane noted.

Morgan snatched the phone away and closed it.

"Hey!" Judas snapped, reaching for the thing…but Morgan avoided him easily. He frowned at the guy and moved to snatch it quickly…but Morgan _moved_. It was a sudden and abrupt shift of weight that suggested a tripping move. Judas stumbled back a step, agitated that he hadn't avoided it, then moved to deck the guy…

Which was when the couple warnings about Morgan being Wufei's second started to make a bit more sense. Judas hissed as the man caught his wrist with both hands, then cried out as he was thrown against the far wall.

"Don't make me hurt you," Morgan growled, following after to stand in front of the guy. "I have my orders, just like you."

Judas cradled his forearm, though all but the memory of the pain had subsided. He considered the man a moment, glaring, then moved to shove past him…only to get slammed against the wall again.

"Hey…" Stacy protested, moving nearer the door.

"Don't," Judas snapped, shoving Morgan back a step as he grabbed his phone from the other. He tucked it away instantly, starting to shove around again…

"I'm serious Ifhera," Morgan snapped, grabbing his arm. "No funny shit."

"What are you talking about?" Judas demanded, trying to shove away, only to get pinned against the door. "Damn it…"

"What were you two saying?" Morgan demanded, pinning him there.

"Jordan's an asshole," Judas retorted.

"What are you doing…" Stacy was concerned, but didn't know how to break between them.

Morgan grabbed his arm near the elbow and put pressure on the spot...which sent pain exploding along Judas' arm. He cried out, trying to move away, but that only agitated the pain worse…

"Morgan!" Stacy moved forward to grab Morgan's hand, but the man was ignoring her completely.

"Stop!" Judas snarled, trying to break away…it felt like his damn arm was about to fall off.

"I'll have your word, Ifhera," Morgan said in a level voice. "No funny shit."

"Okay!" Judas snarled. "Okay!"

Morgan let off the pressure, and Judas cradled his arm as the ache remained strong.

"What's going on?" Stacy demanded. "Why are you two fighting?"

"Judas is here on a mission," Morgan noted, looking to her. "His superior sent him here to gather some information, and now they're moving. Everyone in this group is to remain in this building, and in about a half hour the local I.E.C. branch of soldiers will be here to provide us all with protection."

She was staring at him in disbelief.

"Let's tell the others," Morgan suggested, giving Judas a very dark look.

Judas looked away, following after as he tried to think of the fastest route to the bridge.

It was going to be harder than he'd imagined to get away from Morgan…and it was really his own fault he'd underestimated the guy. He'd just thought Morgan was a kinda heavier built man, not that the extra flesh was _muscle_…and he _definitely_ had not thought the man could move that _fast_.

Also, he had to get out _before_ the resources showed up. That many men could keep him from leaving, especially since Jordan probably wasn't stupid enough to assume they'd be good boys.

Was Riley getting the same order?

He shook his head in disgust, moving to sit on a couch as Morgan eyed him. "Hey, everyone?" the man called around the living area. "Come out here, please…"


	57. 57

— 57 —

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 6 am**

Xane was staring up at the sky as he leaned against a building on the far side of the bridge. It was early, and the temperature was already comfortable for his jeans and t-shirt. Since his and Judas' conversation had gotten cut short, they hadn't been able to make any extreme plans, so Xane had opted to hang out and sleep a few hours before doing anything. Considering that Jordan had ingrained into them how important it was to sleep when you could because you never knew when you'd get the chance again, he assumed his comrade had planned the same sort of thing. It had been confirmed when his cell had vibrated briefly at five-thirty.

Judas had sent him a simple text message with one word. Now.

Considering that Xane knew how heavy a sleeper Mario could be, he'd silently made his way from the room, digging into the fridge and moving to sit down as he waited to see where the resources were.

Jordan wasn't kidding, he'd seriously meant to keep Xane in the building. It'd taken Xane several minutes to figure out how to get around the soldiers. In the end, he'd won his way free and had made his way to the bridge.

Judas had his hands in his pockets as he moved over the thing, looking out at the river. He had a single-strap across his back from a black backpack with his laptop and other paraphernalia…including an extra scrambler. He wasn't the only pedestrian walking, either. There'd been a fairly consistent stream since Xane had initially decided where to wait.

"Hey," Xane muttered as the other neared.

"Yo," Judas returned.

"Any problems?"

"Morgan was trying to be an issue," the guy noted, considering it. "But I'd figured that last night when he did this," he showed a dark bruise on his upper arm to his friend. "You can tell Jor hasn't gotten to train him so much."

"Mario was still sleeping when I left," Xane noted with a grin. "The resources didn't hinder?"

"I don't imagine it was any worse for me than for you. Do you suppose Jor'll castrate us?"

"I hope not," Xane shoved away from the wall. "We should probably find something to eat. I swung by the house on my way here and it wasn't showing any signs of life, so I'm gonna assume he doesn't know. We can figure it out better when we get there."

"Sounds solid," Judas agreed, looking around. "I wish all mornings were this nice."

Xane grinned in response to that. "His flight should be here by ten."

"So we have four hours…how long you thinking about spending at breakfast?"

"Oh, an hour at least," Xane shrugged. "We'll probably have people sent after us, you know that don't you?"

"Oh, Morgan will be _furious_," Judas agreed pleasantly. "He'll probably call Maxwell then and there."

Xane sniggered slightly. "What're the odds?"

"In our favor," Judas retorted, giving him a look. "You never _really_ want to know the odds."

"It's kinda like asking 'what else can go wrong?', huh?" the other agreed. "Words I _never_ intend to ask."

"Oh, I do," Judas flashed him a grin. "Or else it'd all be _way_ too easy."

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 7 am**

"Yeah?" Mario asked blankly, realizing he'd opened his phone and wondering if that was a bad thing.

"You trust him _way_ too much," Chance snapped irritably. "You _were_ sleeping, weren't you?"

"Yeah?" Mario repeated, sitting up and looking at the second bed in the room and blinking.

It was empty.

"Don't tell me he's not right there, Allul," Chance snapped. "Don't you _tell_ me…"

"He's in the kitchen?" Mario offered, climbing out of his bed and darting to the door. The main room had a few of the resources sitting tiredly on couches who gave him curious but pleasant looks.

"He better be," Chance snapped.

"Mm…the courtyard?" Mario offered, moving through the place and looking around as he kicked himself silently for not keeping himself out of that deeper layer of sleep.

"You suck so hard," Chance muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, you're the one who told me only to cuff him if he was being a hassle…where _are_ you?"

"In an airplane with a fairly pissed former gundam pilot," Chance returned, groaning. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Ifhera disappeared, too."

Mario smacked his forehead, leaning against the wall. "I feel like an ass," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"No," Chance muttered with another heavy sigh. "You haven't been trained specifically in the shit they do."

"I just…I thought he'd try something, you know?"

"There's no way in hell they wouldn't have done just what they did. It's Jordan's fault."

Mario could hear the man in question starting to rant in the background.

"Get some of our guys and…Xane told you where the house was, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Mario agreed.

"Go wait a ways away from there…near enough that if they come out running you can back them up. Don't interfere with whatever they're doing. We'll be there in a few hours."

Mario sighed heavily. "Yes, sir."

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 7:30 am**

"I wanna ask you something," Judas muttered as they hunkered down in the yard behind that of their mark…the occupants of the home had left for work, so they were safe to play at hacking, or whatever else they could get into with the little black backpack.

"What's that?" Xane returned, scanning the yard.

They'd been around the place in question several times and hadn't seen a single soul. The only camera they could find was one covering the front yard. They'd both recognized it as a wireless thing, which meant there was a network they could breach with a little luck and time.

"If a tree falls in the woods…" he trailed off, looking to his friend.

"What?" Xane asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right, you weren't there," Judas mused. "It was you we were playing at."

"What?" Xane repeated, frowning at him. "Are you talking about Jordan wanting to shoot Corringer?"

Judas raised his eyes to meet his friend's, not saying anything as he waited to see what the other man thought. He'd found several times over that Jordan's mentality on the matter circumvented a helluva lot of red tape.

"We can't," Xane noted, looking away. "Don't say stuff like that or you'll get us both in trouble."

"It solves one problem," Judas muttered. "You have to admit…"

"No, actually, it'd circumvent justice."

"I wish I could call you a hypocrite," Judas grumbled.

A ball of guilt exploded in Xane's stomach as he remembered the weapon he'd sold and the notebook still hiding in his apartment. He looked away.

Judas noted the change of demeanor and blinked at his friend curiously, then shook his head and went back to finding the network.

Xane dropped onto his rear, looking the yard they were in over. "What do you suppose it's like to be normal?"

"That's an utterly scary thought," Judas remarked. "Ha, I'm in…I think." He waited while the feed loaded, then grinned as he saw the front yard of the house they'd been tracking. "Do you suppose he has security guards?"

"Get all the way in," Xane retorted. "Check the computer set-ups."

"Yeah, yeah," Judas retorted. "We could just turn on the scrambler."

"And have them all over out here being suspicious?" Xane demanded. "Your sense of humor never fails to fall short."

Judas sniggered at that. "Ooh, wha's this…"

Xane shifted around to see the screen himself…and a shot of a living room.

"So we have internal cameras," Judas nearly purred. "How decadent…"

"You know you're strange, right?" Xane asked.

"Hush hush," Judas dismissed easily. "Mm…seems to have a thirty second cycle."

"How many rooms?" Xane asked, sitting back normally again.

"Living room, foyer…kitchen…hallway," Judas returned. "Upper hallway…looks like an office…and back to the driveway. That gives us three minutes to get from one to the next. There are four doors off the upper hallway," he added, looking to the other. "By the window in the office, I can tell it's the front. That gives us three unknowns upstairs, plus two doors off the hall downstairs."

Xane raised an eyebrow at that. "Okay, why would you have a three minute sweep? Seriously, it'd take us about five seconds to get in and if we can get into one of those rooms without a camera they wouldn't have any idea we were there…I'm assuming the doors're all closed?"

"Yep," Judas agreed, then blinked at the screen.

"What?"

"I missed it," Judas returned nervously. "There was something dark there."

"Dark?" Xane asked, shifting to see the screen himself. It seemed excruciating to wait, but if there was an anomaly in the scan…the circuit went around again.

"Huh…" Judas started, starting to look to his friend. "I guess…"

"Basement," Xane cut him off as it showed a dark room. There didn't seem to be any movement in it, but there was a strange blue-green glow in the corner.

It flicked away.

"I thought I saw something," Xane noted, looking to Judas. "Can you pull that camera up?"

"Just a second," Judas returned, starting to click through menus…until a window popped open, lit by that same glow.

"Looks like a night-light," Xane noted, moving in closer to study the scene. "There doesn't seem to be any windows."

"There aren't," Judas reminded him. "The ground area was all bricked…why is there a nightlight in the basement?"

The light shifted around, reflecting off movement.

"What's in there?" Xane whispered, leaning closer. "There's something moving in there."

Judas, however, had thought it'd been a leg…a human leg…and it made his stomach drop. "Xane?" he whispered.

"What?" Xane asked.

"Weren't there spies that disappeared? Three of them?"

Xane focused on his friend's face sharply.

"Jordan said there were three people sent in to look around who disappeared. Two were together and one was off by himself."

"You don't think…" Xane started uncertainly. "Couldn't that be the guard room?"

"This system is located in the garage," Judas noted quietly. "There are two trucks and a car in that driveway. I bet that is a finished garage with the monitoring system."

"So…we need to get in and see what it is in that basement," Xane noted, looking toward the sky.

"We can pray it's not dogs or Turrell's room."

"I'm gonna suggest his room is upstairs," Xane noted. "And it's serves to reason for one of those doors to be a bathroom and a guest room."

Judas nodded.

"And you said two doors off the lower hall?" Xane added, looking back to the house. "I bet one's the basement entrance and one's another bathroom."

Judas nodded again, watching the badly lit room.

"So," he added, looking to Judas again. "You need to make these cameras come up on the front-screen," he tapped the lid of the laptop. "And I need to call Allul."

"What?" Judas asked blankly.

"If that's really them," Xane noted quietly, looking to his comrade seriously, "then we're getting them out of there…I know what it's like to be tied up and defenseless…and it gives me nightmares now…and that was…what? An hour? A couple hours? It wasn't that long."

"We have to make sure it's them," Judas noted quietly.

"I know," Xane said, studying Judas. "I guess it's time to see what we're really made of, huh?"

"Call Allul," Judas agreed, then frowned. "If he was a solider, why isn't he up yet?"

"Let's not overcomplicate this anymore than we have to," Xane suggested quietly. "Get the names of our three."

"Right," Judas muttered, opening a browser window and starting to click through his screens.

Xane started to dial.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Negamono, Mozambique. 7:45 am**

"They're doing _what?_" Morgan demanded in disbelief of Mario.

"They went to that house and they think the guys the government had sent in are being held in there. They're gonna go in and bring them out…"

"Holy shit," Morgan whispered.

"I have to go," Mario added. "We have to be ready to cover them when they come out. I have no idea how long this will take them. Tell Yuy for me?"

"Yeah…I'm calling now," Morgan returned quietly, ending the call as his heart pounded in his chest. He'd been just shy of shocked to wake up and realize that Judas had disappeared…pissed, but not shocked. He'd called Maxwell instantly then, and he already had the numbers typed in now.

"Talk to me," Jordan said, sounding agitated.

"Mouthy and your chameleon think they found the spies," Morgan returned promptly.

"_What?_" Jordan demanded in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Allul just called and told me that Mouthy had called him and said they were just outside the hit. They said they'd hacked into the man's wireless network and it showed a basement room. They're going in because they think it's the guys who went missing."

"That's a _huge_ leap of logic," Jordan snapped. "Don't let them do this shit!"

"I'm _in_ our mission building, Maxwell," Morgan snapped at him. "I can't _leave_, remember?"

The man made a disgusted noise, then started speaking quickly in the background. He made an agreeing sort of noise, then grunted into the mouth-piece…and the call ended.

Morgan closed his phone and rubbed at his eyes as his stomach churned again.

He didn't know what was going to come of this…and the fact that it wasn't even eight in the morning suggested his day was going to _suck_.


	58. 58

— 58 —

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 8 am**

Xane could remember having heard something before about "Murphy's Law", and it wound down to something like…anything that could go wrong _would_ go wrong.

He and Judas had made quick work of entering the residence, and just as they'd gotten in, someone had come in from a far door off the garage. This had then made it necessary to duck into the supposed bathroom…which it was…and wait…while someone went down the stairs to the basement.

Judas had his laptop flipped around so they could see the room on the front-screen…and a bright light flicked on.

Two men darted away from the stairs as a third half-rose to his feet.

They were all bruised and battered, and the man who'd come in from the garage had a wicked sort of smirk on his face…and the camera view flicked to the parking lot again.

"Shitshitshit," Judas hissed, fiddling with a button on the side of the machine so it toggled through the screens back to the basement feed…to show the man kicking one of the three guys as he started for the door. The light was left on as the man disappeared, and the man who'd been kicked limped over to drop near a heavy table, that food had been set on.

"Does that satisfy you enough that we rescue?" Xane hissed at him.

"I'm here with you, aren't I?" Judas retorted as the man who'd delivered the food moved through the kitchen again.

"What if they have a live feed on in there?" Xane hissed. "What if they have all the cameras on live?"

"Then we'd be caught already, dumb ass," Judas retorted.

"We need to," Xane muttered darkly, looking away. "We need to do it."

"The scrambler?" Judas asked, looking to him. "You said yourself they'd all be suspicious."

"We can…um…" Xane fidgeted. "What can we do?"

"We'll have to turn the light back out," Judas mused, looking back to the feed as the three guys started picking dispiritedly at the food. He flicked through the single-feed cameras, since he'd opened them as well as the scanning window.

"If we take them now, they'll know someone is coming for them," Xane noted, pressing a nail to his teeth. "If we wait in here, there's a chance we'll get caught…should we wait for them to land?"

"Where?" Judas asked darkly…then pointed as one of the doors on the upper level opened and a man moved from it with a cell phone to his ear. He was nodding as he talked, then turned and started down the stairs.

"Why did they all have to start moving at eight?" Xane whined slightly.

"Shush," Judas whispered back, flicking to the foyer camera as the man pulled the phone away from his ear, then turned into the kitchen. That was followed as well, and they watched with interest as the man started digging through cupboards.

"So," Xane muttered, sitting back against the tub, "do I dare say it?"

"Not this morning, Mouthy," Judas sighed. "I'm not really up for it this morning."

"But if I said it, we could probably start acting," Xane protested.

Judas hit him hard in the arm.

Xane grinned, running his hands down his face, then gestured at the toilet with his head. "You suppose I could use that?"

"You gotta piss?" Judas demanded, giving him a look.

Xane flashed him a grin.

"You're a sick fuck," Judas noted, looking back to the laptop screen. "I want you to know that."

Xane sighed, then looked to the very white ceiling.

"If a tree falls in the woods," Judas whispered again.

"With Jordan nearly here?"

"In two hours," the man snapped, looking up from the laptop screen. "You honestly want to wait in here for two hours?"

Xane shrugged slightly. "The way I see it…we don't really have that much of a choice."

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 8:30 am**

Mario paced nervously at the edge of the lot he and the other soldiers were in. A couple of them had come up with skateboards, and since the parking lot mainly seemed empty, they were "practicing" their skating ability to explain their presence.

He hated waiting, especially when the end result was possible death. It was different on their normal missions. On those, Yuy'd have word that they might be needed so they'd be sitting around messing with their gear until he came in and started yelling for them to move. There were times when they just shined their gear up and Yuy would get the call that he wasn't necessary, so those waiting bits weren't remotely the same.

Actually, the main thing was that he _was_ needed here. Featihl had called him specifically for his aid.

"You're go, man," Meyer noted, shoving him at the skateboard.

"I don't know how," Mario shot back irritably.

"Why do you think we're here?" Meyer asked happily, shoving him again. "Just get on the thing, when you fall three times we'll let you off the hook."

Mario frowned at him, then moved forward to the board as the other guys encouraged him happily. They all knew him, they were all friends, they'd all saved each other's asses time and again. They knew what he needed was a distraction…and as was his now age-old custom, he let them succeed.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 9 am**

It proved somewhat hard to wash your hands without the sink making noise, but Judas managed it as Xane watched the camera feed. The machine was open and plugged into an outlet, which meant they had all the cameras visible on the screen.

It had to be the stupidest thing in the world, and Judas turned to pace the reasonably large bathroom they were in.

"I can't believe we've been in here for an hour," he hissed.

"Turrell is on his phone again," Xane noted in return. "You know what would be killer? If he left. I think a goodly number of the guys in the garage would go with him."

"We have no proof there're any more than one," Judas retorted.

"No one's out and about down here. Go find out," Xane muttered, making a gesture at the door. "I'll put the laptop back in the bag so we can break if we have to, just be sure to catch a camera if you have to run."

Judas gave him a look.

"We need to know what's in that garage before we can do anything anyway," Xane reminded him, giving him a look. "If we have to run we can just go to the airport and let Jor know what's up."

Judas sighed, rolled his eyes, then pulled out his weapon to check his clip. He put that away, then leaned down to tighten the laces of his boots. "I'll take the front and go to Mario if I have to," he muttered. "You go through the yards and do whatever you do to get back to your mission. Deal?"

"Deal," Xane agreed, watching him move to the door and turn the handle slowly. "Foyer," he noted.

Judas nodded, then slid out the door as Xane hit the buttons to keep all the screens visible on the mini top screen. It made all the feeds tiny, but all he needed to see was Judas leaving.

Judas darted out the back door they'd used to come in, and slunk low against the building as he headed toward the garage. There was a back entrance to the building, and a window on either side.

The spy slid around the back of the building carefully, then turned slowly to look in the corner of the window on the far side of the garage.

He could see at least three guys sitting at a couch. One was sleeping, one was staring into a coffee cup, and the other had a remote and was aiming it tiredly at a tv screen. Judas ducked down under the window and moved up on the other side…to see a somewhat large screen with the rotating feed. There were two guys sitting there. The one who'd kicked the man in the basement was sleeping in a chair, and the second had a book.

A sharp ringing of a phone made the two he could see jump, and his heart nearly slid down his throat into his stomach as there was a noise right behind his head.

"Hello?" a man asked. "Yeah? Right now? All right…we'll get the truck ready, then. Right." The noise came again. "All right, he wants to go meet Mishrav for breakfast. Someone go turn the light off."

That got grumbles before a door opened across the room and the sound of general movement met Judas' ears. He slid below the window and glanced in again to see the men were strapping on holsters.

So how many would go? All of them? Would one stay to watch the camera? More? How concerned was Turrell for his own safety? Did the guy mean the light to the basement room? Why would they turn that off if they were gone?

He ducked around to the back side again and waited tensely, hearing more doors opening and closing, as well as laughter and conversation before a truck started…then the car. 

Wouldn't this be the time to pray? To which god, though? Did Jordan or Chance actually count as gods?

"Morning, sir," someone muttered.

"Morning," a more officious sounding voice agreed. "You're driving today, then?"

"Yes."

"Good," the man muttered…and a car door shut. After a moment, a second door shut, then a third. After a long moment, a fourth did as well, and Judas listened to the sound of the front-entry gate rolling open.

Judas focused hopefully on what he wanted to happen, looking to the sky again…it really _was_ a gorgeous morning. The sky was a crisp and clear blue and there were birds twittering all around, coupled with the background noise of traffic out on the main street…and he'd spent most of it in a bathroom.

That wasn't fair, that was some sort of cosmic joke…

The gate ground shut again, and Judas waited a long moment before moving back around to the window.

The tv was still on, but no one was sitting at the table. He ducked under the window again and looked carefully at the other side of the room…to see the man who'd been reading still sitting there with his book. The camera flashed to the basement again, and the light was definitely off.

That…some god somewhere was helping he and Xane out…

And that was all. There was no one else in the garage, and presumably no one else left in the house.

Judas darted under the window…and headed back for the bathroom.

- -

Xane looked up to the door as Judas slid back into the room with him, and he was grinning broadly.

"Well?" Xane asked.

"One guy left, reading a book. The camera is on the flashing, so if we time it to a cycle, we can get in and out no problem."

"Why did they turn the light down there off?"

"I almost care," Judas noted happily. "Almost, however, only counts in horseshoes and grenades. Get your badge out."

Xane nodded, shoving the laptop back into the backpack as Judas strapped the thing to his chest and dug his own badge out.

"We can get down there and explain who we are, show them the badges with a flashlight until it hits the basement, then we'll have another three minutes to get out of there," Xane muttered as they both stood near the door.

"Right," Judas agreed, flashlight in hand.

It flashed to the basement…and they both moved, watching down the hall toward the kitchen as the camera flashed into the living room. They darted into the basement room with the flashlights on.

"Who's there?" someone demanded in a scared sounding voice.

"First lieutenant Xane Featihl of the I.E.C.," Xane said, flashing the flashlight onto his badge.

"First lieutenant Judas Ifhera, of the I.E.C.," Judas agreed, also showing his badge. "Do you speak English?"

"Yes," the man agreed, nervous. "What's going on?"

"Are you Martin Zihrel, Leo Tozas, and Wil Reik?" They'd confirmed it with the information on the laptop, but it always did good to ask.

"Yes," the man agreed. "We are."

"Then unless something goes horribly wrong, we're here to rescue you," Xane said happily. "Unfortunately, it's not all sweet and easy like blazing guns and shining glory…where's it at, Jude?"

"Just hit the parking lot again…are you all three capable?" he flashed his light across the other two men.

"Yes," the first agreed nervously. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

"There are cameras all over this house," Judas explained. "We'll give you the details later. When we say, we're all going right up those stairs and out the back door into the yard…and over the back fence. Me'n Xane will help you over, then from there we'll run like pussies to our back-up."

"If there are cameras all over," a second man started.

"Trust me," Judas snapped…and he and Xane turned off their flashlights. They watched as the camera showed the basement again nervously. "Come toward us slowly…we don't want the man reading to notice anything."

"All right," the third male said quietly.

The pair of spies listened as the guys moved closer, then flicked their lights on.

"Let's move," Judas ordered, shining his light on the stairs as Xane darted up them and carefully opened the door.

Their hearts were pounding as they slid from the basement room with the three men, then across the hall and out the doors. Xane pulled two of the guys to him to one side as Judas pulled the other with him to the other…as the camera flashed to the undisturbed view of the hallway.

"Go!" Xane added quietly, shoving his two at the fence.

The trio moved instantly, and the one Judas had grabbed immediately moved to help the smaller of his two comrades to start scrambling over the fence…it was grey river-rock sort of stuff. Xane started helping the third up as the other guy fell off the top into the far yard with an oof . Judas didn't waste time asking if he were all right, he shoved the first man up and over.

"You got it?" Judas hissed at Xane.

"Of course I do," Xane retorted, then stepped back and hopped up…instantly taking the backpack from Judas as the man also stepped back and jumped.

They were over the fence that quick, and hunkered down on the far side as the three men looked around wildly, trying to shield their eyes from the bright sunlight with eyes that hadn't seen true daylight…in at least a month.

"Let's go," Xane ordered, and led them to the left. It was the same path he and Judas had taken to get there to begin with.

"I take it they have rotating cameras?" the main speaker asked Judas as they moved out onto the sidewalk…and straightened themselves out to walk normally.

All of them did, which was what made Xane remember that they were spies as well.

"Yeah," Judas agreed. "Thirty seconds per camera, and they only went to the basement every other cycle."

"You're first lieutenants?" the smaller asked, looking between them, then grinned and saluted.

"Oh yeah, _now_ is the time for formality," Xane grumped at him, pulling out his phone. "My superior will be here within the next hour," he added, noting that it was nine-thirty as he glanced at his watch. "And they'll be taking him down."

"He's Colonel Stanly Turrell, formerly of Chile," the main talker noted quickly. "He's been inciting the rumors of invasion to sell stolen mobile suits and arms to the local populace for a hefty profit."

"Amazingly enough," Judas noted, "we figured that out already."

The guy grinned at him. "He was going to kill me, I'm not sure why he didn't."

"Mario?" Xane asked happily as they neared a corner. "Where are you?"

"Parking lot in the middle of the next block," Mario returned instantly. "Where are you? What do you need?"

"We need you to start your engines," Xane replied easily. "We have our blind mice and would very much like to get back to the comforts of our mission building."

"Are you being followed?" Mario demanded, moving out onto the sidewalk in front of them since the parking lot entrance wasn't even four hundred feet way.

"No, we're not," Xane replied happily. "But let's not test chance, huh? He gets pissy."

Mario snorted, turning and making the go gesture to whoever he had with them. The group of five joined Yuy's second and followed him into an area with two vans.

"We aren't playing get away," Judas noted to the driver of the second machine as the three men they'd saved climbed into the van with Mario. "We don't want attention brought to us, so we're following the rules and going back to your mission building."

"Sir," the driver agreed promptly as Xane gave the same instructions to the driver of their van.

Judas looked the parking lot over warily, then slid into the van himself and slid the door closed.

"Now that we've reached something like safety," the third man muttered, looking between the two of them. "Let me be the first to thank you."

"That's not necessary," Xane muttered, raising his cell again. "But I appreciate it."

"Talk to me," Judas heard Jordan's stressed tones.

"Hey, baby," Xane greeted the man, rubbing a hand down his neck. "Did ya miss me?"

"I won't next time, I've been practicing," Jordan noted.

Xane laughed, running his hand down his face. "We've got them…all three of them."

There was no response.

"We're heading back to the mission building…and now I'll stay put like a good little puppy…but you owe me a biscuit."

"Do you mean biscuit cookie or biscuit bread?" Jordan's tone was full of a sort of relief.

"I really don't care right now, oh mighty leader," Xane returned, looking out the window. "Be my sun?"

Jordan laughed weakly and fell quiet a long moment before sighing. "Sure, Mouthy…I'll be your spring."

Xane grinned slightly and closed his phone, tucking it back into his pocket.

"Was that your superior or your boyfriend? Or is there a distinguishment?" the main talker asked happily.

"That was our superior," Judas explained. "And he's married to a woman, so he's not a boyfriend."

"That we know of," the smaller of the three noted happily, then pointed at Xane. "You gonna let me use that?"

"Not until we get back to the mission," Xane returned. "I have a scrambler set up there and we can start all sorts of things happening there…including showers, if you want," he looked them over.

"A shower would be king," the quiet one noted. "Fuck, a shower would be emperor."


	59. 59

— 59 —

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 10:15 am**

Xane rose instantly to his feet as Jordan entered the room, Judas only a heartbeat behind him. They were followed by Mario and the members of the swat team.

"You're still babies," Wil Reik protested as he also rose to his feet…then noticed the rank tag on Jordan's chest and fell instantly into attention.

"You didn't have a problem with _us_ outranking you," Xane protested at the guy, then fell into his own formal attention and saluted. "I'm sorry, lieutenant general."

"Sure you are," Jordan retorted, shoving at him as he looked to Leo Tozas.

"Sir," Leo muttered with a salute.

"Zihrel is in the shower," Judas muttered. "We only have one in the building, so we let them decide who went first."

Jordan nodded, then offered his hand to Mario. "Your assistance was invaluable."

"Stop with the posturing already," Chance muttered, moving to drop into a chair.

"You're going to wrinkle your suit," Mario informed him pointedly. "Either sit up or go change."

"Hahaha," Chance muttered, though he did sit up and straighten the outfit.

"You want something to eat?" Xane asked.

"You could start by telling us what's in the house," Jordan noted pointedly.

"But I can do that while you're eating," Xane returned, nonplussed. "Then you can call Riley in and get Morgan and his crew over here so we have a solid core-force."

"How long does it take?" Jor protested.

"Oh, call it fifteen minuets by foot," Judas returned, grinning impishly at him. "I'm sure it could be more like ten by car…and possibly five with sirens."

Jor gave him a look.

"We rescued people?" Judas asked curiously, sitting.

"You're an ass, and you're an ass," Jordan retorted, pointing from one to the other, then back to Xane. "Get us something to eat."

"Yes, sir," Xane returned almost mockingly, bouncing toward the kitchen.

"I thought as much," Leo muttered, looking to Wil.

"It was sort of slammed in our faces," Wil returned, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh?" Jordan asked them blankly.

"You're friends with your men…close to them," Wil shrugged. "They can disrespect your rank as long as they don't disobey it."

"He gets away with more'n that," Chance muttered, pointing at Xane, who was moving around the kitchen.

"Oh, like _he_ doesn't," Judas retorted, pointing at Mario.

Mario grinned, moving around to help Xane wordlessly.

"Yeah, Mouthy's his second," Judas added to the two men. "And Mario is _his_ second," he indicated Chance. "One of the guys…" he trailed off, looking between the two men before looking back to the former gundam pilots.

"What?" Jordan asked blankly.

"Do…you know who they are?" Judas asked, focusing back on Wil.

Wil looked at him curiously a moment, but his gears were turning. It ended with his eyes going wide as he looked to Chance and Jordan in amazement.

"What?" Jordan demanded again, irritably.

"You used to have this really long braid," Judas returned, indicating a length about to his waist. "And it was kind of telling."

Jordan blinked at that, then looked back to the two men.

"Holy shit," Leo muttered, looking back to his comrade.

"I should beat you," Chance muttered tiredly to Judas. He didn't move from where he'd flopped back again, but he was glaring daggers at the guy.

"Yeah…the guy Morgan is the second of Chang Wufei," Judas noted, looking back to the former prisoners. "Why are you here, anyway?" he added to Chance.

Chance gave him a steady wordless look until he looked away.

"So," Xane said happily, bringing back two plates of scrambled eggs as Mario buttered toast. "How was your flight?"

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 11 am**

Stanly Turrell narrowed his eyes as his driver stopped the car in disbelief.

There was as swat van in front of his house…and the electronic gate was wide-open.

"Go," he said darkly, glaring down the street. "Go _now!_"

The driver reversed, then turned and shot back into the street.

"Head to the garage," Stan added. "With any luck they didn't find that."

There was something pleasant about knowing that the I.E.C. had destroyed most of their mobile suits. It made fights a helluva lot easier to win when your enemy didn't have the same advanced technology as you.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 11 am**

"Right, there's a warehouse downtown with that name on it," Jordan noted to Chance. "Let's go."

"Lock this place down!" Chance ordered the men who were standing around. "No one in or out!"

"Yes, sir…" was the general consensus as he and Jordan slid into the already moving vehicle.

Chance looked out the window as his friend called the driver of the second van. He'd given the driver the piece of paper that either had a map drawn on it or the address. He hadn't gotten the chance to look…and he felt almost useless, just another set of stars. He knew it wasn't even remotely Jor's intent…but Jordan was doing what he needed to do to get his guy, and that didn't include sending Chance to play.

They flew through the city as Jordan made call after call…and pulled to a screetching stop outside a large warehouse.

It was strange for Chance to follow his comrade instantly with only his handgun. He was used to entering buildings of any sort…in full body armor, not his uniform with full stars…

Jordan stopped short as they broke into the building, his attention instantly moving up…

To a giant fucking buster riffle.

"Fall back!" Chance shouted, turning on his heel as he heard the telltale sounds of the machine about to fire. "Fall back!" He grabbed Jordan by the arm and pulled him…as the shots hit just inside the door.

"Mother _fucker!_" Jordan shouted as the various men who'd been following started to fall back. "Get us some suits!" he shouted to the commanding officer of the local unit. "Two at least!"

"There are none!" the man returned.

"Warning shots," Chance noted, looking back to the building…aside from the smoke billowing out of it…there was no movement and no sound.

Jordan turned to look as well, then looked to chance. "How many did you see?"

"Only the one," Chance admitted, making the gesture for the men to fall behind the trucks. "How many did you see?"

"One row of four for sure," Jordan returned, "but I couldn't tell how deep it was."

Chance's stomach sank.

"What's the likelihood of him having anyone who could fly?" Jor muttered.

"Pretty good," Chance admitted. "We had this war fought by fliers."

"You weren't supposed to say that," Jordan accused. "How could you say that?"

Chance turned back to the men. "Get us the shields! And get us some suits!"

"I told you there are none," the main man protested.

Chance moved up to him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in close. "Then _find_ some."

The guy blinked, then dropped his eyes. "Sir."

Chance turned irritably to Jordan. "Call Trowa…ten hours is better than never."

Jordan hit the three on his cell.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 12 pm**

Xane wasn't overly surprised that there were suits in the warehouse…and he wasn't overly surprised that there didn't seem to be any other on the entire African continent.

He moved into the protected area around the warehouse and up behind his superior. He moved to lean against the man's back and set a bag in his lap.

"Mm, Mouthy," Jordan greeted, turning his head to see his second's face. Xane was half-tempted to kiss him, but a moment of lucidity reminded him that was very much _not_ what the set of actions entailed.

Jordan seemed to follow that thought process himself and flashed his second a grin. "We're in public."

Xane moved away instantly, grinning slightly. "I come bearing food."

"That's good, doesn't seem like we're going anywhere any time soon," Jordan muttered, looking up to the shielding that had been placed across the front of the building. "Why isn't he attacking? They could just take out the roof and fly off."

"Were they Aries?" Xane asked blankly.

"Taurus," Jordan returned, shaking his head as he started into the bag.

"You hate me, don't you?" Chance accused, moving to sit next to them since he'd been standing a few feet off. "I didn't think you really did."

"Oh hush, I got you both some," Xane waved toward the bag and moved to drop in front of them.

"…And it depends on how many people he has who can run them," Chance noted, taking a wrapped sandwich from Jordan. "The Taurus, I mean. If he has enough men to do it, he could march them out and take off…but we don't know how many there are. You said he had five guys? We got one of them…so that's four that we _know_ he had, and we've got people looking into how many people who worked here were here today. As soon as we get that number we can have a reasonable estimate on the real numbers."

"And then its nine hours for Trowa to arrive with his machines that he doesn't know if will work."

"It's more like five," Jordan muttered, taking another bite. "You know, we should just tear down that door," he pointed at the main entrance.

"So they can come out and kill everyone?" Chance retorted.

"We found some!" the man in charge muttered, moving into the area. "There are two over the river…we had to pardon the people who'd bought them."

Chance and Jordan looked to him in disbelief.

"They were his," the guy explained, pointing at the building. He grinned a bit impishly. "We have some men trained to fight in them…"

"Oh, no," Chance muttered, rising to his feet. "I'm in one. He's in the other."

Jordan shrugged, eating happily.

"So you're gonna take on twenty machines?" the man snapped.

"Sure," Chance returned nonchalantly, sitting down to eat himself. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"You were in gundams before," Xane noted, grabbing Jordan's water bottle and flipping it open. "Taurus aren't gundams."

"If we had our gundams," Chance retorted, "we would have been done an hour ago."

Xane grinned at him, then shrugged and looked to the leader. "Get them," he suggested. "How is the evac going?"

"We're sweeping the near buildings and they're getting the people out of the second ring."

"You've had an hour," Xane noted, raising an eyebrow. "Why are they only at the second ring?"

The man frowned at him, then shrugged.

"Get the machines," Xane snapped. "We don't have all day, while we speak Turrell could be in there gearing up the machines! Why are you still here?"

The man was gone that fast.

Xane sniggered, looking up to see if Jordan approved.

Jordan gave him an amused sort of look, then went back to eating.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Somewhere between North America and Africa.**

Trowa shouted excitedly as he and Wufei flew in a tight spiral, around Quatre's machine, hearing Wufei's same laughter.

Quatre watched his screens carefully as they moved, wondering vaguely if they realized they weren't just flying for fun.

The rest of Trowa's men were in their suits behind, flying in formation like soldiers were supposed to be doing. They were over the ocean, and Trowa and Wufei had been _playing_ since they'd first gotten out of shot of land.

Trowa had managed to test his machines through, and it had only been the one set of machines that had been corrupted. He'd traced it back to where the pieces had been gotten from, and found that those machines were not supposed to be pieced. They'd replaced the few parts, but the machines that had crashed were waiting at the base, not being flown on a genuine mission.

Quatre banked sharply as he saw his opening, and turned into the same spiral as his friends, which made them both laugh even harder…

It felt _good_ to fly. Sandrock hadn't ever really been a flier, and zero gravity was different enough to not really compare…but genuinely flying with no restrictions…

"I was pretty sure we weren't doing a ballet," Doug noted almost curiously from where he was at the front of the pack. "You gentlemen planning to regain dignity before landfall?"

"Oh hush," Trowa muttered happily…and dropped.

"Trowa!" Doug's call was alarmed.

Trowa laughed delightedly as he turned and shot upwards from the surface of the water. He hadn't broken the surface.

"Stop," Quatre reprimanded him, falling back into position.

Trowa laughed and regained his own position as Wufei resignedly joined them.

Quatre wasn't fooled, he knew very well that the pair wouldn't maintain the order…but maybe for a little while they could pretend to be disciplined.

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 1 pm**

"I wanna fly," Chance whined to Jordan as he walked the giant machine down a street.

"Baby," Jordan retorted. "Deal with it. We aren't in a situation to do that."

Chance grinned, glancing at his comrade's image. "You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll get," Jordan agreed. "Remember, these machines aren't nearly as agile as Deathscythe…or Wing."

"Don't be offensive," Chance retorted.

Jordan made an amused noise.

"Why do I have a feeling we're gonna have to cancel our Easter engagement?" Chance added.

"Oh hush," Jordan muttered, frowning. "Damn…"

Chance laughed again, then flicked the loudspeaker on. "Move the shielding back to protect the surrounding buildings. Keep behind those shields."

The trucks holding the large shields instantly started to move.

- -

Stanly stared out the window of the warehouse in horror as two Taurus made their way in front of his building, waiting for more…

But there weren't anymore coming?

"What's the news?" he demanded of one of his four guys.

"Two Taurus have been found," the man replied instantly. "They're coming here."

"Only two?"

The guy's face wasn't happy as he looked away. "They're gundam pilots."

Stanly dropped back into his chair.

"We're fucked, you realize that, don't you?" another of his guys asked…the one who'd given the warning shot.

"What are you talking about?" Stanly retorted irritably. "They have _two_ machines."

"Yeah, and were trained since they were like…twelve," the guy snapped. "You forget that it was the gundam pilots who won the wars?"

"What?"

"We have four," the man muttered. "Four former mediocre soldiers who trained a handful of others."

Stan turned to glare at him, then looked back out at the machines as the final of the shielding trucks moved.

"Stanly Turrell?" the same voice that'd ordered the trucks moved called. "I am Lieutenant General Yuy of the I.E.C., and in the name of the International Earthsphere Council, I order you lay down your arms. If you do not cooperate, we will be forced to take military action."

"Let's go to our machines," Stan snapped, turning and heading to the garage.

"I'm not engaging them in a battle for you," the driver muttered. "I'm surrendering."

"I'll back you," the one who'd shot said. "You have me."

Stan looked the various people over in disgust, then turned and moved through the doors. Not everyone followed him, but several did.

"How do you expect to win?" one of the other guys muttered as he jumped at a tow-rope. "Do you want us to die for you?"

"Once we win clear of here," he snapped, "then do as you will."

- -

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 1:20 pm**

Stanly didn't bother to open the door to the garage. He simply destroyed it.

Xane stared in amazement as the door melted from existence…at the same time as Jordan and Chance started to move.

The people waiting behind the shields stared up in amazement as the first of the enemy machines darted at Jordan…which quickly made his gun worthless. The towering machines grappled together a long moment before Jordan ejected his rifle to fight easily.

Meanwhile, two of the machines had moved at Chance. He was holding off the pair of them as two or three more machines tried to make it out of the building…

Xane jumped hard at the loud sound of metal crashing against the cement, focusing instantly back on the pair of machines nearer him. He stared at them in dismay as he tried to tell which was supposed to be Jordan or the other…as the machine started at the second machine attacking Chance. That machine fell as well, and Chance threw the other off…as another machine attacked both of them.

Xane shuddered where he stood as he saw something he hadn't seen since he was a child. He'd never been so close to a mobile suit fight, and he wondered how terrifying it would have been if they hadn't had the shields around them. The ground shook under the steps, and the sound of metal on metal made him feel cold inside.

It didn't help that there was no difference between the machines…and the fact that the only noise was that made from impact.

The machine that he thought was Chance's threw another machine back as one broke past him…and started to run up the road.

It was like an earthquake as car alarms went off in the distance…and then there was a loud sound…and the machine launched into the air.

"Holy shit…" one of the young soldiers muttered, looking around to Xane.

Xane nodded his agreement, turning to see one of the machines falling on top of another. After a moment, a different machine raised it's gun…and that was when Xane realized the one that had fallen on top of the other was Jordan's, because it didn't _have_ it's gun. One of the other in the mix jumped at that machine as Jordan's machine rose to it's feet…and two more machines ran by…causing that same earthquake feeling before taking off. The first of that group to have fallen picked up as well…and ran off up the street…before also taking to the air.

Jordan was going to be _pissed_.

Of the remaining four machines, one was on the ground, and the one closest to the building wasn't moving. Jordan's machine, and the one Xane assumed to be Chance's, moved toward that final machine…before both it's arms raised in surrender and the cockpit opened to demonstrate the end of it's threat.

The pair turned on the final enemy machine…and the thing took off into the sky.

Chance's machine took off as well, causing all the people to cover their ears as Jor's machine took the parked stance…and then men started coming from the building with their hands in the air.

Xane blinked as they reached about the legs of the remaining machine and tossed weapons at it's feet…and laid down on the ground, face first and hands extended.

"Well, that's my cue to go into action," the man in charge muttered, looking grim…and then he started gesturing.

Xane looked around to Judas in disbelief, not sure what he thought about the action.

"Look," Judas muttered, pointing into the garage. "There are only twelve suits in there."

The second raised his head again to look…and see that. He stared at it in amazement, then looked back to Judas. "And there are thirty in a unit?"

Judas nodded, biting one lip as he looked back to Xane. "There's the one the Chinese government grabbed," he added. "The two they got," he pointed at Jor's machine. "That's twenty-seven…plus this one here goes back to twenty-six." He looked back toward the garage. "That's fourteen left."

They exchanged a long look.

"Move back!" Jordan's voice came from the machine. "Everyone, back up!"

Everyone looked up to see Chance's suit lowering back toward the area. People cleared it quickly, darting this way and that before the suit finally touched down with enough force to shake everything, then also take the parked stance.

"Featihl," Jordan added, "Ifhera, come meet our flier."

Xane darted around the shielding with Judas a step behind him, moving up to the feet of the very large machines.

"You there," Jordan added. "Move down your tow to the waiting men. They have my permission to protect themselves fully."

Xane pulled out his firearm, cocking it and aiming at the opening, then shifting it slightly so as not to actually aim it at the man who'd come down.

As the man lowered down into view, Judas spat a curse, looking around to Xane in amazement.

"You're kidding me…" Xane whispered.

They wouldn't have known it if Jordan hadn't been sure that they see the picture of the man himself.

It was Stanly Turrell.


	60. 60

— 60 —

**March 24, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 6 pm**

"I can't believe you took them all on without waiting for us," Trowa grumped irritably. The half unit he'd brought with him from the Inado base had landed in an airfield at their arrival.

"I told you, we didn't have a choice," Jordan muttered for probably the hundredth time of the hour.

"Maxwell!"

They turned to see Xane moving up to them at a quick trot. "Maxwell, they're asking for you up at the compound."

Jordan blinked at him.

"Chance is all irritated and said if anyone, his second should be able to find him. They turned to me at that point and told me to get you."

Jordan sighed, looking back to Trowa. "I'm sorry, all right?"

Trowa made a dismissive gestured, then pushed away from the foot of the machine he was on. "At least we can hunt down the runners."

"How was the flight?" Xane asked, dropping a partial step behind Trowa, who was a step behind Jordan.

"Exhilarating," Trowa grinned at him. "We played for most of it. I'd say you should try it some time, but once you get your first taste of real flying you don't wanna let it go."

Xane grinned at that and shrugged. "I'm not the best pilot…I'm the best spy. I'll take what I have and be happy for it."

Trowa laughed a bit.

"Where is Quatre?" Jordan muttered, looking around.

"He's seeing to your arrangements," Xane returned. "They were going to put you up in the bunkers with the rest of the men and he came up with some fluff and bother story about sleeping with his necklace off…some order he gave or something that he has to follow…so he couldn't be put in the bunkers. They told him more or less to deal with it and he told them more or less to shove it. He's at some fancy hotel up the street getting us rooms…evidently the seconds that are present get to join, as well as Judas and Riley," he added to Jor. "You told her what was happening, didn't you?"

"Don't be offensive," Jordan retorted. "I called her first and she told me she wasn't going to follow and tattle on either you or Judas for me, and that she was going back to sleep, and she'd come find the action first chance she got."

Xane sniggered, realizing he loved the woman dearly. She was like…the perfect little sister.

"I thought you'd appreciate that…she's not here yet, I take it?"

"Not yet…you should call her."

Jordan nodded, pulling out his phone and dialing. "Hey, beautiful," he added after a moment. "Why don't you come hop right along to the base here? Ten minutes? All right. See you then," he rolled his eyes to Xane and hung up.

"I love that woman," Xane noted happily to Trowa. "You have no idea how far her awesomeness extends."

- -

**March 26, A.C. 205. Zenica, Tanzania. 8 am**

The remaining fallout was delegated to the local authorities as Jordan made the arrangements to fly Stanly Turrell back to the Inado base. As the sun rose, Trowa dispatched two of his men to fly home in the first-class seats Jordan and Chance had registered…and the plan was set that they were _flying_ home.

Chance was just shy of ecstatic at the confirmation.

"If you want to fly," Trowa noted to Xane, studying his machines over, "you can fly."

"No," Xane returned, also watching them. "I went through the suit craze and lost my chance," he smiled slightly. "I didn't focus nearly enough to really fly one of these babies, and you've trained me for it, yeah…but I don't feel like I deserve it."

"My guys fly all the time," Trowa muttered, meeting his eyes. "It won't be a hassle for them to get to ride in a plane for the flight instead of a chair."

"No," Xane looked back to the things. "That's not what I meant."

"You?" he asked Judas.

"I can't leave Mouthy to fly alone," Judas returned, though he showed no more resignation than Xane.

"As long as you're sure," Trowa muttered, giving them both confused sort of looks.

Judas pointed at Chance, who was still bouncing around impatiently, muttering pointedly to Jordan that he wanted to be off. "If that's what it turns into, I'm fine with my feet on the ground."

"Except we'll be in a plane for ten hours," Xane reminded him.

"We can use that time to get to know each other," Judas retorted.

"Only if you wanna join the mile high club," Xane muttered, looking away.

Judas smacked him.

Trowa rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, we're heading to the port," Xane muttered, looking back to their superior before moving into his personal space to give him a coy look. "I have to tell my man goodbye…" and he breezed away.

"He's been like that all morning," Judas noted, rolling his eyes. "He either got laid last night or he should have…I can't tell which."

Trowa smirked at that.

"Let's go!" Chance protested, moving forward to grab Trowa's arm. "Let's get out of here!"

"Calm down," Trowa muttered as Judas slipped around him. "You'll have plenty of time to get over your flight withdrawal…it's a six hour flight, you're not gonna be bounding for all of it."

"Why not?" Quatre asked curiously from where he was leaning against the foot of one of the beasts. "You and Wufei were."

"I was _not_ bounding," Wufei retorted. "How do you _bound_ in the air?"

"I couldn't figure it out," Quatre replied easily. "I decided to leave it to you two."

Jordan snorted, hugging Xane briefly as Judas moved up to him.

Riley, who'd been with him, sighed and looked around to Xane and Judas. "Are we ready?"

"Yeah," Xane agreed, shaking hands with Chance. "See you in ten hours," he muttered.

"Yeah, take care," Wufei muttered with a grin. "If your plane starts to crash call us. We might be able to come save you…I kinda like you, so it wouldn't take much an effort."

"I'm touched," Xane retorted happily, then turned and started away.

"Mm," Chance muttered as they moved from the yard.

"Wait for it," Jordan suggested.

"Mmmm…" Chance protested, bouncing where he stood.

"Not yet…" Jordan returned, watching as his men climbed into the van they were taking to the airport.

"Mmmmmm," Chance bounced more.

The van door shut and Chance turned completely away from them in agitated frustration.

Trowa looked to Wufei and Quatre with rolled eyes, but the only response he got was the rolling of Wufei's eyes.

Jordan had one hand raised as he watched the van of his guys…and Trowa's guys…pulling away. He raised that hand to wave briefly at them as Chance turned back to him almost impatiently.

The van turned.

Jordan lowered his hand and looked to Chance.

"Can we _go_ yet?" Chance absolutely _whined_ at his comrades.

Jordan started laughing, then turned and grabbed the tow of the machine he'd be flying.

"I think I disown you," Trowa muttered, blinking at the Japanese male.

"Let's go," Jordan said in and ordering sort of tone.

Chance actually made a slight squeaking sound, then turned and absolutely _launched_ for his own tow.

"If you didn't see that coming, I'd have to disown _you_," Quatre noted happily, moving to his own tow.

"Come on," Wufei muttered as he started back for his own. "If you don't get in he's going to absolutely freak out on us…and that sounds messy."

Trowa snorted, looking to the clear blue sky a long moment, then shook his head and made the go gesture to his team as he started for his machine.

Some days, all the fuss and bother of his rank was absolutely worth it…and really, even though there was always something else trivial on the horizon, he didn't have a bad life. He had money, a consistent job…a house, and his friends.

All he needed was a lover, and things would all be fine.

He grabbed his tow and started it lifting him up, studying the blue skies around them as he went.

Really, he couldn't wait to be in the skies with Chance again…to give his friend that release he was craving.

"I guess I was wrong this time, huh?" Jordan muttered to them all.

"I fail to follow that logic," Quatre returned as he buckled in.

"What were you wrong about?" Wufei asked blankly.

"The devil's due is innocence," Chance noted as the door to his cockpit sealed shut. "Duo believed firmly that the war wouldn't be over until the devil got his due."

"Who said the war was over?" Trowa asked, buckling in himself. "What a ridiculous notion."

"We still have a good fourteen suits to catch," Chance agreed happily, starting up his engine.

"I still get to call and cancel on my sisters," Quatre noted pointedly. "After I confirmed we were _all_ going."

Trowa sniggered.

"Yeah," Quatre muttered. "You _think_ it's funny…"

"Mm," Chance whined from where he was sitting. "Can we _go?_"

Trowa swept his eyes over the screens of his men, then grinned slightly. "Yeah, Chance," he muttered. "Let's go."

_**End**_

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E/N: I hope you all enjoyed this one, and I'm sorry for the spotty updates there for a while. I have an idea for a third story in mind but I'm not going to say more than that until something comes of it in a month or ten. Anyway, reviews would be appreciated, and take care!


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